











/ 






* 






















THE REAL STONE FACE 

OR 

SUFFERING DEPICTED BY NATURE 



EUGENIA JONES BACON, 

- / 

Atlanta, Ga„ U, S. A, 



ATLANTA, GA.: 

THE FOOTE & DAVIES COMPANY, 
Printers and Binders. 


1899. 





,12> s 


49411 


Copyright, 1899, 

By EUGENIA JONES BACON. 


All rights reserved. 


TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 




]vwi . S.'J'J, 





» 


Dedicated to the Memory of my Son, 

EDWIN JONES BACON. 










PREFACE. 


Hawthorne wrote of “The Great Stone Face”; it is 
my privilege to give to the world “The Real Stone 
Face,” which for pathetic outline has not its equal. 

The look of wonder in the eyes of children and of 
“savants” connected with the largest museums of Eu¬ 
rope and America tells its own story. I am sure the 
deepest and truest emotions of the human heart have 
been stirred when examining this product of nature. 
This singular portrayal on a dew-wrought fragment 
from the Kopfel overhanging Ober-Ammergau recalls 
to mind “The Old, Old Story” of suffering borne with 
patience. It has been my most cherished possession in 
years of travel from Alaska to Russia, and has brought 
me in touch with learned men who have examined it 
with powerful magnifiers and unhesitatingly affirmed 
that, “No tool of man has touched its surface.” Its 
naturalism precludes the possibility of superstition. 

It was largely due to the influence of the late Dr. 
Bradley, of St. Agnes, New York, who expressed the 
wish that the stone should be widely exhibited, that I 
decided to show it publicly. If his untimely death 
had not prevented, the value of these pages would have 
been enriched by a contribution from his pen on “The 
Footsteps of Christ.” 

If this book awakens an interest in nature’s God, it 
will have fulfilled its mission. 

E. J. B. 

September 24, 1899. 




CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER. PAGE. 

I.—Visit to Ober-Ammergau ..13 

II. —The Passion Play as I Saw It . . . . .23 

III. —The Stone from the Mountainside— How it Was 

Discovered.36 

IV. —Nature and Superstition ...... 50 

V. —Are the Portraits of Christ Authentic ? The 

Symbol of the Cross.61 

VI. —Opinions of “The Real Stone Face” . . .77 






“WONDERFUL.” 

‘‘His name shall be called Wonderful.”—I saiah ix. 6. 

Oh, wondrous life! for thirty years to wait, 

While, year by year, dull winter’s weary gait 
Gives way to budding springtime’s quicker pace 
And summer’s bloom and autumn’s onward race. 

To stand inactive while the seasons rolled, 

Whose soul, above all others, might unfold, 

And show itself responsive to the song 
That nature sings to all the noble throng 
Of poets, sages, heroes ev’rywhere 
Whose minds interpreted the lessons there; 

Whose arms were nerved anew for battle strife— 
Antaeus-like—by touch of earth and life. 

But there was One who drew from nature’s breast 
More life than any man, and yet repressed 
And suffered not the fires of youth to burn 
For once too high or low, and quenched in turn 
Ambition, restless zeal, intemp’rate haste— 

Nor squandered pow’rs in idleness or waste. 

Yea, wondrous life! for thirty years to stand 

In blank obscurity when ev’ry land 

Had lesser lights that shone in palace halls, 

And weaker arms that battered down their walls, 

And feebler tongues that swayed men’s minds and hearts, 
And duller minds that practiced subtle arts. 

To stand aside while men went on in life 
With nothing higher than this ceaseless strife, 

While he could tell them of a nobler goal, 

The grander, truer mission of the soul— 

To stand and wait till summoned far away 
To face the tempter’s snares by night and day, 


And in the fullness of his time begin 

The thankless war on each man’s darling sin. 

The babe, the lad of twelve and nothing more! 
That silence speaks—those unwrit struggles bore 
The greater witness. What a man was he! 

The lowly peasant there in Galilee. 

And wondrous life! in thirty years to sow, 

And then in scarce a tithe of that to grow, 

The seed that springs to-day in million hearts, 

The deathless life that faith in him imparts. 

From Jordan’s banks to Calv’ry’s quaking brow— 
A span of time—three years or more—that now 
The briefest course in college walls would be! 
Enough for that Young Man of Galilee 
To train the twelve and send the seventy; 

Rebuke the fever; cleanse the leprosy; 

Release the captive soul; awake the dead; 

And still the storm; and give the hungry bread; 
To preach the tidings to the multitude, 

Or, one by one, to pure in heart or lewd; 

To batter down the walls of sin, and build 
The living fortress; to explain, fulfilled, 

The oracles of God, the prophecies, 

The expectation of the centuries! 

Oh, wondrous life! but tell with bated breath 
The tragic story of the wondrous death! 

Yes, death, and at the hands of those he blessed— 
A willing death to shield the murd’rers’ breast! 

He knew no sin, yet bore the sinner’s guilt. 

The Son of God it was whose blood they spilt. 
Enough! enough! those blessed bleeding hands 
Point back to that one life that still withstands 
Without a loss the vandal heel of time, 

The critic’s shaft, the vile reviler’s slime. 

Thrice wondrous life and death—a work complete 
That brings at last all nations to his feet! 


For now he lives again forevermore, 

His death atones for sin—his life, before 
So full of toil on earth, now lived above, 
Is calling us to deeds of patient love. 

His foes go down in hopeless hope so dim; 
He lives, and lives in me—and I in him! 


Louisville , Ky., i8gg. 


John Lake. 







JroTn t?ie. Ti'orn aTfovt, . 








Swax. Electric Engraving L’:' 


C op''rigit. 






THE REAL STONE FACE. 


CHAPTER I. 

“Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.’’ 

—Daniel xii. 4. 

A love-day in May, 1875, we weighed anchor and 
glided out of New York harbor, steering toward the 
rising sun. We waved our moist handkerchiefs to 
friends whose forms grew dimmer and dimmer as the 
lovely shores of America receded, yet we nursed a feel¬ 
ing of joy over anticipated pleasures in the Old World. * 
ne coast of Ireland never looked more beautiful than 
.t that hour when, after eight days tossing of the old 
ship Russia, we first heard the call from the masthead, 
“Land, ahoy! land!” During many years of travel 
memory continues to recall the scene when passen¬ 
gers hugged the ship’s rail, peering into the distance 
for a glimpse of the Emerald Isle. More than one 
woman had prayed earnestly to lie in the ocean’s quiet 
bed, with seaweed and coral-reefs for a couch. 

We went abroad with no wish to rush from scene to 
scene merely for the satisfaction of saying we had done 
this or that. We longed to study the works of art as 
conceived and guarded by man through ages of change, 
and to delve into the workshop of the God of the uni¬ 
verse, who hangs the firmament over our head like a 
curtain spangled with stars. Rocky mountains and 
calm, peaceful valleys alike filled our minds with sub¬ 
jects for thought and joy. The peasant spending his 
13 



14 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


life shut away from the world with his cows, pigs, and 
numberless children all living under the same roof 
fascinated us, as did royal personages sitting in seats 
of power and majesty. Man fashioned diamonds and 
jewels for crowns, but the laborer drove pick and axe 
into the earth to find these jewels. 

In this nineteenth century we have become almost in¬ 
capable of feelings of astonishment, therefore it is dif¬ 
ficult to relate anything new or startling. Electricity, 
with its powerful forces, and talking-machines would 
have alarmed our grandparents; we deem them essen¬ 
tial to our daily comfort. As new and marvelous in¬ 
ventions come to the front, we bestow a passing glance, 
then rush on in search of other forces to conquer. 

The story this little book relates will make one think; 
perhaps produce a feeling of wonder, not more in¬ 
tense, however, than that which dwells in the mind of 
the writer herself. ' 

To make this narrative clear, let me say that it is my 
custom to bring from every place visited a souvenir; 
it may be small or it may be great. Like the “old 
woman in the shoe,” for over twenty years I have lived 
in my trunk, that trunk in most part filled and refilled 
with a medley of old brass candlesticks, copper kettles, 
geological specimens, pressed flowers, and even a 
feather from one of the white peacocks of Warwick 
Castle. 

In far-away Finland I gathered richly veined gran¬ 
ite ; in Alaska, gold-bearing quartz; and on the precipi¬ 
tous ledges in Norway dry and chippy tufts of 
reindeer-moss, which supplies nourishment to thou- 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


15 


sands of magnificent creatures with wide-spread 
antlers. Beside the ruins of the old Kremlin tower at 
Moscow, I stood and looked wistfully upon that big¬ 
gest of bells that lies toneless (much like to some lives). 
There was not the smallest fragment to bring away for 
my museum. In the monastery of Troitsk, Russia, I 
filled a bottle with holy water drawn from St. Sergius’s 
well; and with my own hand gathered acorns from a 
tree overhanging the house Peter the Great himself 
constructed. The carpenter who was repairing the 
floor of this small shanty gave me a fragment of the 
original flooring. 

From both Sweden and Norway I have samples of 
the national bread so much enjoyed during our stay. 
The Norwegian is thin enough to be enfolded between 
the leaves of a book. 

The sunny lands of Italy and Sicily enticed me to 
leave many dollars in their curio-shops, in exchange for 
faded bits of silk or rare carvings, also a genuine 
painting by Murillo of “St. John and the Lamb.” 

Last, but by no means least, I mention two insignifi¬ 
cant fragments of rock taken from the side of the 
mountain “Kopfel,” or “Christus Kopf,” that over¬ 
hangs the quaint old town of Ober-Ammergau in Bava¬ 
ria. Neither piece measures more than one inch and 
could be encased within the shells of an English wal¬ 
nut. The first question to be answered is, Why did I 
select such small specimens ? Why did I ? Merely to 
add them to a collection begun by my thirteen-year-old 
son and continued in memory of him. 

These silicious yellowish-hued fragments have no 


1 6 THE REAL STONE FACE. 

markings or veins of colour on their surface, are not 
transparent, and do not sparkle like the great Kohinoor 
in the English crown. Eminent scientists give as the 
component parts an admixture of limestone with chert 
or flint. After careful examination under powerful 
glasses they concur in one opinion as to their 
genuineness. Skilled cameo-cutters of Rome, Italy, 
declare were they paid a fortune, with a life¬ 
time wherein to work, they could not reproduce 
the fine undercuts wrought out by the subtle, hidden 
forces of nature. The wonder in connection with one 
piece is, held to the right or below the light, a face is 
seen in correct anatomical drawing. It portrays deep 
lines of suffering, counterbalanced by resignation. To 
see it once, is to recall it ever. The story I tell has 
never been told by any one, and its details are different 
from anything written. 

In the summer months of 1880 the Passion Play was 
being enacted at Ober-Ammergau. My friend, Miss 
Rebecca Monteith, of Edinburgh, Scotland, and myself 
wished to see the performance and, after hesitating for 
months, suddenly set out for the town of Innsbruck, 
from which point we took a diligence up the mountain. 
We instinctively shuddered at the thought of a mere 
man’s attempt to portray the divine tragedy, the scenes 
from Calvary, yet we did go, and never regretted the 
journey. 

At five a.m. on Friday, September tenth, we made 
ready for the day’s drive, taking with us only a hand¬ 
bag. With lines in hand, the driver blew a long blast 
on his bugle, as a signal that he wished to be on his 
way. My friend had secured a seat in the coupe, I one 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


17 


beside the door of the interior. This latter I found oc¬ 
cupied by a German frau, her husband vis-a-vis smok¬ 
ing his pipe. Again the bugle sounded. I stood on 
the step, holding to the door-handle, with no intention 
of squeezing into the one remaining seat at the furthest 
corner. After a short delay a sepulchral voice from 
behind the pipe-handle said, “Frau, move up, it is late 
now. Americans claim everything, even here in our 
own country.” To the left of the door I was securely 
wedged in. 

Changing horses at a station, I bought a basket of 
fruit and in a neighborly way offered the frau a 
peach. She looked greatly embarrassed, but like a du¬ 
tiful, well-trained wife she asked her husband’s per¬ 
mission before accepting it. Removing his pipe, he en¬ 
veloped my head with a cloud of smoke, then nodded 
his consent to his wife. Returning my attention, he 
snapped open a handsome silver snuff-box and stuck it 
under my nose. More than once it had been the 
rounds of the passengers, but this was my first offer of 
a pinch. 

The day wore on apace as we climbed higher and 
higher; meanwhile heavy clouds arose and obscured 
the setting sun, and ere we reached the summit of 
Mount Ettal, a downpour of rain made a mountain 
pass at best difficult almost impassable. 

Passengers were requested to dismount and climb 
the mountain on- foot in a drenching rain. A fuzzy 
peach saved me a good ducking, for the husband of 
the woman who ate it insisted that his wife and I 
should remain seated. We did. 


i8 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


The clouds lifted in time to give us a passing view of 
the beautiful Ampherthal, with a monastery perched on 
the brow, but crumbling from disuse. Like a sentinel, 
it guards the valley below. Passing Ammergau, then 
Unter-Ammergau, with its shining white houses barely 
discernible in the fading twilight, we approached Ober- 
Ammergau, with its church-tower outlined against the 
evening sky. At the entrance to the village is a large 
marble group representing the moment when Christ 
said to His mother, “Behold thy son!” and to the be¬ 
loved disciple, “Behold thy mother!” This was erected 
by the order of Ludwig II., of Bavaria. 

We had not secured seats for the play, nor, indeed, 
sleeping accommodations; and thousands were en 
route, so lessening our chances. On dismounting at 
the post, my newly acquired German friend was asked 
by a diminutive man if he wished a room with two beds 
at four marks each a day. His negative reply gave me 
an opportunity, and without more ado I said, “I will 
engage your room.” 

With the energy of a Caesar that wee mite of a dwarf 
laid hold of my hand-bag and made for his home. My 
friend was not yet down from the coupe, but as my 
satchel contained every cent of money for the trip, it 
was natural for me to follow as best I could, for my 
host either did not, or would not, understand my poor 
German, gasped out in broken sentences. It was dark 
and the rain pelted unmercifully as I trudged on. Oc¬ 
casionally a voice called from the distance, “Komm an, 
Frau; komm an.” After what appeared to be a long, 
but was really a short walk, my guide entered the open 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


19 


door of a neat white cottage built low on the ground. 
Within was a picture never to be forgotten. To the 
right horses, cows, and chickens tried in vain to snatch 
a wink of sleep; to the left, lying on a straw-covered 
door, were twelve or fifteen peasants taunting an old 
woman with her tardiness in preparing their evening 
meal; she, poor soul, was bending over a blazing fire 
doing her best. My host opened a door in the rear and 
entering, bade me do the same. Three flaxen-haired 
children, sleeping in three wooden cradles, already had 
possession, while a tiny mother rocked her infant to 
sleep. 

My American spirit now made itself known. “These 
are the two beds you offer my friend and me—here 
in the midst of your family?” for at a glance I noted 
no door led out of this apartment. “Even these are 
dear at eight marks a day.” Complacently he smiled; 
then placing his feet on a ladder in the corner and like 
a squirrel reaching the topmost round, touched a spring 
in the ceiling, and through a trap-door disappeared, 
still gripping my bag. Peeping down, coaxingly he 
said, “Komm an, Frau; komm an.” I stood still. 
With a soft lullaby on her lips, the dwarf mother 
tucked her mite of a baby under the corner of a fluffy 
red feather down and followed her husband. This 
gave me courage to do likewise. In that upper cham¬ 
ber, hung about with bits of fine carving, were two 
spotlessly clean beds. Our host, it seems, supported 
his family with the skill of his knife-blade, and these 
walls were his storage-place. He now went for my 
friend, and from his wife I learned his part in the Pas- 


20 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


sion Play was to bear the bowl of water when Christus 
washes the disciples’ feet. 

Early next morning we were astir, and fortunately 
secured two seats for the play on Sunday. True, they 
were on a rough-hewn log; we were grateful had it 
been but standing room in that vast auditorium. Com¬ 
fortably settled, we arranged to remain a part of the 
week, that we might mingle with the natives in their 
homes and so study their lives in connection with the 
wonderful drama. Had we left on Monday, with the 
sightseeing multitude, this book would never have been 
written and the small fragment of stone it describes 
might have lain for centuries on the mountain-way 
from which I stooped and took it. Neither would I 
have had those many enjoyable moments spent in con¬ 
templation of its portrayal, nor those varied experiences 
when brought in touch with learned men and women 
who were deeply interested in this rare work of nature. 

We found the natives with little idea of progress; 
their church, built long, long years ago, remains un¬ 
changed. These devout worshipers dress still in the 
quaint old styles of their ancestors, the men wearing 
high black satin stocks and, on festive occasions, richly 
embroidered white silk waistcoats. 

The women wore identically the same style of cos¬ 
tume, allowing little scope for heartburnings or jeal¬ 
ousy. Their gold earrings were of the selfsame de¬ 
sign. The skirts measured five yards and were not 
gored; plump or thin, each woman contrived to pucker 
the fullness into the waist-line. A low bodice of a 
blac* material much like undressed kid had “leg-o’- 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


21 


mutton” sleeves; it was overtopped with white and fin¬ 
ished in front with a handsomely embroidered velvet or 
silk shield, on the cuffs a peacock pattern in gay-col¬ 
oured silks. I tried to buy one of these bodices, but 
the owner declared it had been in the family for fifty 
years, and naturally she disliked to part with so dura¬ 
ble a “friend.” 

The women’s hats are of black felt, and have no 
plumes plucked from the body of a sweet songster— 
'only a black ribbon and buckle. 

But for the Passion Play, Ober-Ammergau would 
not be visited or even known by the outside world. 

There is a prototype of this play in Spain called “The 
Queen of Elche.” This, however, is enacted every 
year instead of every ten, and as its name suggests, 
deals more with the Virgin Mary than with the life of 
her Son. 

The origin of it is somewhat on this wise: Decem¬ 
ber 20, 1370, the statue of a beautiful woman was 
washed ashore with the sheets of a cantata of music, 
unimpaired by the surging waves. It was believed to 
be of miraculous origin and its fame spread. The sick 
came to be healed, the blind and halt to bow before it. 
Finally it was placed in the lovely Cathedral of Elche. 
When the music is played and sung, the church is 
transformed into a theatre and those who receive the 
sacrament are presented with an azure-blue lace fan, 
with golden sticks. The Virgin is represented by a 
young girl of ten, robed in a long blue silken garment, 
with an aureola about her head. While the choir sings, 
Mary kneels and there descends a blue globe, or Man- 


22 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


grana. This seeming fruit opens and from the centre 
comes forth an angel who scatters coin among the pop¬ 
ulace and presents Mary with a golden palm-leaf. 
The Virgin, now about to die, asks to see the apostles, 
and they pass her couch in adoration. The Mangrana 
descends once again and Mary’s soul (an exquisite doll 
robed in richest silk and covered with gems) is taken 
by the angel to heaven. 

For two days the recumbent figure, with a death 
mask, lies on view; the natives with lighted tapers pass 
around it and into the street. The archbishop and 
clergy file out of the vestry, the apostles lift the cush¬ 
ion with the figure clothed in heavy brocade with dia¬ 
mond ornaments, and, wrapping it in a silken grave- 
cloth, they entomb it beneath the altar, which repre¬ 
sents a sepulchre. 

The heavens now apparently open and through the 
illusion of a golden shower is seen the Trinity. The 
miraculous mirage slowly ascends in the glory of its 
brocades and jewels and a crown lights upon the head. 
The people weep, pray, and applaud, during which time 
the chorus sings a glorious anthem. 


CHAPTER II. 


“That I may build an altar therein unto the Lord . . . that the 
plague may be stayed from the people. ”— I Chron. xxi. 22. 

Ober-Ammergau and its remarkable Passion Play 
for a decade has been the theme of writers, both in Eu¬ 
rope and America. In every hamlet and town lectures 
have been delivered, and children are now conversant 
with its every detail. 

To appreciate this unusual performance with the pa¬ 
thos of the play, one must look upon it with their own 
eyes, and hear it with their own ears, not in city or the¬ 
atrical hall, but in that far-away mountain village 
where it had its origin; in the midst of the homes of 
the simple folk who live their lives in the fastnesses of 
high mountains whose bold outlines lift the mind to 
the Ruler of the universe, ^who created heaven and 
earth. 

The Passion Play was first rendered in the year 1633, 
and the legend as to its origin is somewhat on this 
wise: A pestilence prevailed in the mountains of the 
Bavarian Alps, depopulating town after town. A 
workman employed in one of these infected spots re¬ 
turned to his family in Ober-Ammergau, sickened and 
died, after which the scourge spread rapidly. A grave¬ 
digger, with two assistants, opened graves by day and 
by night, then were barely able to supply the demand. 

From a little cottage nestled beneath the shadow of 
the Kopfelspitze, wife and children had been borne to 


23 


24 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


their last resting-place. Weary of his lonely home, the 
father, with a heartbreaking voice, prayed that he too 
might die. 

It was night, the room was dark; suddenly in front 
of him there loomed into view the outline of a wooden 
cross, the figure of Christ hanging there with an ex¬ 
pression of agony and resignation on His face. A 
gentle voice seemed to say, “My son, are you weary? 
Are you heavy-hearted? Do you weep? Remember 
my agony; I have endured -more than thou.” This 
clear manifestation to him of his crucified Lord soothed 
his heartache and fired his soul with fresh zeal and a 
strange resolve. Out into the night he rushed and on 
to the village church. 

The priests had laid by their vestments; no candles 
burned on the altar; overhead flickered a faint red fire 
that never goes out. Groping in the dark, he grasped the 
bell-rope and pulled vigorously. The silver-toned metal 
rang out a call that was quickly answered by both priest 
and parishioners, wondering who could have rung 
the church-bell at so untimely an hour. No one noted 
a kneeling figure beneath the still swaying bell-rope 
until he arose and with a tremor in his voice addressed 
the people: “Friends, the sword of revenge hangs over 
our village; numbers of our loved ones have been cut 
down by the hand of death. Who of us will be called 
hence ere the morning sun rises? Only a moment ago, 
weary of my desolated home, I knelt and implored the 
death-angel to choose me for his next victim. With 
this' wicked prayer upon my lips Christ himself drew 
near. I saw Him hanging on the accursed tree, but 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


25 


His face became radiant with love and pity as He bade 
me remember His agony. Friends, I have hasted 
hither to implore you to join with me in a solemn vow 
to enact here in our village the wonderful scene that 
transpired on Calvary. Our dear Master is never deaf 
to a cry of anguish; peradventure He may withdraw 
the hand of death from our homes.” 

Priest and parishioners fell upon their knees, 
then and there avowed their desire to carry out 
this thought. The resolve soon took definite form. 
Tradition states from that hour the plague was stayed; 
the sick became convalescent; the grave-diggers’ tools 
rusted, and once more the cottages resounded with 
songs of merriment. This vow made nearly three hun¬ 
dred years ago, has been handed from father to son and 
faithfully kept. The lives of these simple villagers 
grow into the spirit of the performance and the church 
is really the training-school where its members are in¬ 
structed in the scenes that go to make up the drama. 
Pastor Daisenberger, who died in 1882, taught his peo¬ 
ple faithfully. He it was who purified the play of its 
inharmonious passages, such as the “dance of the Devil 
before Judas.” He introduced the music of the Pas¬ 
sion Play in the schools, selecting the best voices of 
both boys and girls for the choir. Assisted by forty 
householders, the pastor always selects those fitted to 
take active parts and the rehearsals are on fete days, 
such as Palm Sunday or Corpus Christi. For three 
years before the public performance the hair and beard 
of actors are unshorn. Each individual is required to 
live a consecrated life; unbecoming conduct, and they 


26 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


are dropped from the roll. Out of a community of 
seven hundred inhabitants, no less than five* hundred 
persons take an active part. Surely the influence is 
felt. A close study of the life of Christ with its sweet 
embodiment of faith and love must permeate the minds 
of both young and old. 

Tyrolian peasants are accustomed from infancy to 
pictorial and sculptural portrayals of Christ on Cal¬ 
vary. In their sleeping-rooms and cottages, on the 
roadside and in mountain pass we find carved figures in 
emaciated form and blood-stained face. These repre¬ 
sentations generate no feelings of reverence in our 
minds, yet the natives bow before the shrine of the Ma¬ 
donna and Child to pray, or in passing an image of 
Christ they make the sign of the cross in token of their 
love. 

Scenes then so sacred to us are to these mountain 
people no more than our form of worship, or the repeti¬ 
tion of the church creed. It is woven into their relig¬ 
ious life as a part of the church service. 

No one can witness the Passion Play as given at 
Ober-Ammergau without realizing that men, women 
and children perform their parts in a spirit of true de¬ 
votion. 

We of this enlightened age naturally shrink from be¬ 
holding a mere man assuming the form, attitudes, and 
words of Christ. 

My friend and I forgot our opposition on that memo¬ 
rable twelfth day of September, 1880, when from eight 
in the morning to six in the afternoon we sat on a 
rough-hewn log (with no back support) listening to 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


27 


words recorded in the Bible, and touchingly exempli¬ 
fied by living, moving figures. 

At five o’clock on Sunday morning the village can¬ 
non boomed the signal for mass in the church. Each 
actor in the Passion Play receives the sacrament, and 
by eight o’clock they march in a body to the arena, 
which is twenty thousand square feet and accommo¬ 
dates five or six thousand persons. Overhead, birds 
flew hither and thither, mingling their twitter with the 
voices of the actors. The sun does not always shine, 
but if it rains umbrellas are not allowed open. There 
is no diminution, however, in the ardor and devotion of 
the players, even when their garments are drenched. 

A small portion of the stage is covered and cur¬ 
tained, that the tableaux may be arranged, while the 
chorus is being sung by eighteen voices led by one 
styled “The Choragus.” 

The various coloured robes are overtopped with 
white tunics, bordered with gold fringe. Over all 
flows a brilliant mantle. They are crowned with gold¬ 
en crowns. In a clear voice the Choragus announces 
the prologue, and while sweet strains of music float 
through the air, we look upon the tableau that fore¬ 
shadows the scene in the New Testament, thus inter¬ 
preting and explaining the shadow with the substance, 
the type with its fulfilment; man’s fall and God’s plan 
of redemption. From our uncovered seats we gazed 
upon beautiful scenery beyond; the flower-grown val¬ 
ley. of Ammergau, the white houses of Unter-Ammer- 
gau, and the cross-crowned Kopfel. 

I was unable to detect the slightest move of body in 


28 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


these living personators of Old Testament characters. 
This is the more surprising, as children of two years 
take part. 

Mrs. Howitt relates her impression in these words: 
“Whilst they sang, our hearts were strangely touched, 
our eyes wandered away from those singular peasant 
angels and their peasant audience up to the deep, cloud¬ 
less sky. We heard the rustle of the trees and caught 
glimpses of the mountains; all seemed a strange poeti¬ 
cal dream.” 

Mayer, who personated the Christ, studied well his 
part; his every word, every pose separates him from the 
crowd, a hooting populace. Strangely fascinated, we 
seem to be in the streets of Jerusalem listening to im¬ 
precations hurled at one central figure whose intona¬ 
tion depicts the purity of the life he has prepared him¬ 
self to delineate; his soul comes in touch with hearts 
bowed with sorrow. 

In this hubbub of a motley mass of Jewish men, 
women and children not for a moment did Christus 
fail to maintain a supreme dignity. 

Adam and Eve driven from Paradise (the serpent 
wound about the tree of life) is followed by the shouts 
of a multitude coming from behind the scenes singing, 
“Hail to Thee, Hail to Thee, Son of David.” This 
surging crowd, Galilean pilgrims and dwellers in Je¬ 
rusalem, herald the approach of the prophet of Naza¬ 
reth. Hebrews with their families throng the street. 
Five hundred persons of all ages are in this scene, many 
waving palm-branches or singing hosannas. 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


29 


The crowd opens. Mary’s son riding upon an ass 
moves slowly to the front of the stage. This was in¬ 
deed realistic. 

Far out on the plains of Dothan, Joseph in a coat of 
many colors is hid; afterwards disrobed and sold to 
the Egyptian merchants. 

This plan of selling an innocent youth artfully fore¬ 
shadows the betrayal of Jesus by Judas. As the music 
ceased we beheld one of the most impressive tableaux. 
Tobias, a small lad, is seen in the act of leaving his fath¬ 
er’s home accompanied by the archangel; his mother’s 
agony over the separation is depicted, but not spoken. 
This demonstrates Christ’s willingness in giving.His 
life a ransom for mankind. 

Three flaxen-haired children in flowing white gar¬ 
ments cling to a wooden cross in adoration, bringing to 
mind the message of salvation in the New Testament. 

In a beautiful garden the Bride of the Canticles, sur¬ 
rounded by her bridesmaids, chosen from the Jewish 
girls, awaits the coming of her beloved; they bewail his 
absence. In like manner the church longs for the com¬ 
ing of the Bridegroom. 

At the house of Mary and Martha, in the banquet- 
hall, Magdalen pours costly ointment upon the Mas¬ 
ter’s feet and Judas exclaims, “Three hundred pence 
might have been gotten for this ointmeqt and given to 
the poor.” The words of Christ were never better 
rendered by any living actor than by Mayer, “Let her 
alone; the poor always ye have with you, but me ye 
have not alway.” 

The repudiation of the haughty Queen Vashti and 


30 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


the gracious selection of Esther brings to mind the re¬ 
jection of Christ by the Jews, and the calling of His 
chosen people. 

When Christ took leave of His mother there were 
few dry eyes in that vast assemblage. 

The bribe and struggle of Judas with his guilty con¬ 
science touched rflany a heart, inclining them to forsake 
the downward course of the transgressor. 

On the plains and in the wilderness are seen a dense 
crowd of Israelites—mothers with babes in their arms 
and on every side innocent children with upturned 
faces and spread aprons, catching the sweet manna- 
food as it floats toward the earth. Never have I wit¬ 
nessed a more effective tableau. 

“The Last Supper,” spread in the house of Mark, 
demonstrates the fullness and freeness of Christ’s re¬ 
demption. This portrayal was a reproduction of Leo¬ 
nardo da Vinci’s famous painting on the wall of an old 
monastery near Milan. 

Adam and Eve are again in evidence, surrounded by 
a family of children numerous enough to make a fath¬ 
er’s stout heart quake .at the thought of giving them 
daily bread. Adam, however, courageously forces his 
spade into the ground; by the sweat of his brow he 
must live. Sharing the curse with their father, his 
sons with bleeding hands pull up the thorns and this¬ 
tles that cover the land. Poor Eve has a more difficult 
task than her husband. While hushing the wails of an 
infant, seven little girls tug at her dress and beg for a 
morsel of bread. The loaf is small, but the mother dis¬ 
tributes it equally. 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


31 


In full view looms up the Mount of Olives and the 
Garden of Gethsemane. In the foreground Peter and 
John embrace each other, and bewail the fate of their 
beloved Master. Peter avows his determination to fol¬ 
low Him, even unto death. Alas! for poor frail man’s 
most earnest resolve! Peter soon turns his head and 
denies that ever he knew the Lord. 

At noon the cannon announced the hour for lunch¬ 
eon. We seemed riveted to our places; the thought of 
physical enjoyment was forgotten in the mind-food that 
satisfied our mental appetite. However, for a time 
men and women who had enacted sublime parts laid 
aside their royal robes or golden crowns and assumed 
the homely duties of waiters and housewives, earnestly 
looking after the welfare of their guests. 

Our waiter, Jak Helt (Peter), with a ring of merri¬ 
ment in his voice, gave no intimation of the contrition 
of mind he was to suffer. John, the beloved disciple, 
was a young man of singular dignity of character and 
manner. 

After an hour of rest and refreshment the cannon 
again gave the signal for the play to be resumed. 

We now found two thrones on the stage, occupied by 
Ahab, king of Israel, and Jehosaphat, king of Judah, 
each in royal array. Micaiah and Baal are questioned 
as to the advisability of the armies of the king going 
up against Ramoth-Gilead. Micaiah’s reply not being 
in accord with the desire of the king, Zedekiah smites 
him on the cheek. See the captive Nazarene before 
Annas, His cheek still red from the blow of a soldier’s 


32 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


hand; hear the memorable words, “If I have spoken 
evil, bear witness of the evil; but if well, why smitest 
thou me ?”' 

The wicked Queen Jezebel looks on at the stoning 
of innocent Naboth, and the wife of Job, attended by a 
retinue of servants, haughtily reproaches the afflicted 
patriarch, bidding him “curse God and die.” Turn¬ 
ing from these humiliating scenes in which two wom¬ 
en take part, we see the “Prince of Peace” standing 
before the high priest Caiaphas. In the hallway Peter 
warms himself and again denies all knowledge of the 
bound captive. 

Mayer portrayed this, one of the most trying scenes, 
with touching pathos, signally so, when with an expres¬ 
sion of pity, He fixes his gaze upon the conscience- 
stricken disciple. Peter implores forgiveness, not in 
word, but in manner, as he stretches forth his arms 
toward his Master driven with scourges. 

The sentence passed upon the Innocent One by Pi¬ 
late is foreshadowed in the Old Testament by the mur¬ 
der of Abel, and the casting of Daniel into the den of 
lions corroborates the final order for the “King of the 
Jews” to be crucified. 

A forcible illustration of the ability of the Head of 
the church to save fallen man is exemplified when blind 
Sampson lays hold of the pillars of the temple and 
they topple about him like wooden pins. Father Abra¬ 
ham binds his beloved Isaac for the sacrifice, when sud¬ 
denly an angel springs into view and stays his hand, 
pointing to a lamb caught in the brambles, typical of 
the crown of thorns plaited for the King of kings. Ut- 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


33 


terly forsaken by His followers, He stands alone, await¬ 
ing His sentence. 

In the distant background the pyramids loom up. 
Egyptians again crowd the streets. Joseph crowned 
and regally arrayed rides in a triumphal chariot, dem¬ 
onstrating the resurrection, when the Bridegroom of 
the church will return to be with His chosen people. 

In harmony with the remaining scenes of condemna¬ 
tion and crucifixion, the chorus appear in garments of 
mourning. Ignominy is now heaped upon the “Lord 
of lords,” upon Him “who holds the keys of hell and 
of death,” “who is the brightness of the Father’s 
glory.” 

The closing scenes of the Passion Play can not be 
depicted. Two crosses stand erect, their living bur¬ 
dens with arms thrown over the cross-beams, pros¬ 
trate upon the ground the centre cross with Mayer 
(who personates the Christ) stretched thereon. Appa¬ 
rently the nails are driven through the tender flesh, a 
heavy thud and the accursed tree is in position. 

There is a slight support about the arms and waist, 
under the feet an artificial sole; yet with an opera-glass 
I was unable to detect the merest semblance of them. 
Mayer’s body, limp and seemingly lifeless, is lowered 
by the aid of a long linen cloth. One mistake and his 
life is sacrificed to the religious ardor of the Ober-Am- 
mergau peasants. 

Hanging there for twenty minutes, we realized what 
a strain he endured, and felt that only with Christian 
zeal could the Passion Play be performed or even 
looked upon. 


34 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


From the entrance of Christus into Jerusalem, rid¬ 
ing upon an ass, until the supreme moment when he 
bows his head, saying, “It is finished,” there is a sol¬ 
emn hush that rests upon every heart. We left the 
auditorium solemnized, under a spell as it were; no idle 
word could we speak. 

The clouds that threatened now broke forth in a del¬ 
uge of rain. Unsophisticated peasant men, women and 
children in that high mountain village taught us a les¬ 
son never to be forgotten. The late Edwin Booth wit¬ 
nessed the play the day we did and I heard him say, 
“Never on the stage have I seen better acting nor finer 
conception of character than that of Mayer and Pilate.” 

Pilate, who wore the robes of a king on Sunday, the 
next morning appeared in the garb of a wagoner with 
heavy overtop boots, making ready to take the post-bag 
to Murnau. 

For Judas we felt sincere pity. He said he detested 
the spirit of the money-loving apostate, yet earnestly 
he portrayed the greed and avarice of the traitor. 

Mayer, sadly in need of rest, sought quiet in an ad¬ 
joining town away from autograph fiends who would 
give him no peace. 

Wood-carving is the chief occupation of the village 
folk, many of whom do fine work, yet are unable to 
draw on paper. Mayer had a room full of crucifixes 
and madonnas. We talked with many of the men, 
seated at their benches carving; startled sometimes in 
asking their names to have the bland reply, “I am the 
apostle James” or “the high priest Caiaphas. On the 
mountainside we watched Adam’s children making 
mud cakes. 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


35 


Not alone do the inhabitants of Ober-Ammergau 
show devotion to the enactment of the sacred drama, 
but from surrounding districts peasants come with a 
fervor born in their honest hearts. Men and boys, 
wearing a feather or flower in their hats and women 
curiously costumed, on entering the village, kneel be¬ 
side the marble group and without the leadership of 
priest or pastor repeat in concert the church creed, 
and there in the open air chant a song. Scenes 

from Bible history furnish painters and sculptors 

with subjects, but the Passion Play brought us in 
touch with realistic scenes in the days of Christ 

tnat the mirror of life will keep before our eyes 
until the sun goes down the hill of existence 

never more to rise for us. The patient suffering, the 
calm endurance, blended with the furrowed brow, 
teaches that although we must suffer we can be patient, 
for under all the provocations that surrounded him, 
.Mayer never showed impatience. With a ring of pa¬ 
thos in his voice, he looked toward the Jewish city: 
“O! Jerusalem, Jerusalem! How often would I have 
gathered thy children together, even as a hen gather- 
eth her chickens under her wing and ye would not!” 
A keen thrill of pain shot through my heart. Had I 
helped to bring that Innocent One before Pilate, helped 
to nail His body to the tree? Rebuking Peter with a 
gentle rebuke, looking upon his disciples with a calm 
but troubled face, flashed into my soul a realization of 
pardon, and I believe I cried aloud, “O Master, for¬ 
give !” 


CHAPTER III. 


“Thou sawest that a stone was cut out of the mountain without 
hands.”— Daniel ii. 45. 

The day afer the Passion Play numbers of peasants 
climb the mountain Kopfel, familiarly termed “Christus 
Kopf,” “Christ Head.” They go as pilgrims to touch 
a metal-covered cross perched on the topmost point. 
There is a belief among the natives that if this cross 
falls it will be a visible symbol that the Passion drama 
shall be discontinued. 

So it was that on Monday, September thirteenth. 
Miss Monteith and I followed men, women and chil¬ 
dren wending their way up the mountain. We were 
gratifying our curiosity. Physically and mentally we 
had endured a tremendous strain the day before, and 
our energy in climbing flagged and we turned to retrace 
our steps. There and then with no thought of selection- 
I stooped and took from beside my feet two fragments 
of the mountain formation, merely as geological speci¬ 
mens, or mementoes of the place and play. I do not 
recall bestowing upon them more than a passing glance. 
My trunk in Innsbruck was overweighted with just 
such specimens, and my friend urged me to cast these 
aside. 

Fortunately, I did not. As a mineral it is of no con¬ 
sequence, but as an object-lesson this limestone stands 
alone, single and unrivaled. 

Eight years now intervene. I crossed and recrossed 
36 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


37 


the ocean three times, and while visiting friends on the 
Hudson, New York State, a telegram from Atlanta no¬ 
tified me of the burning of the Young Men’s Library 
building, where my boxes of curios were stored. 

Finding that water had done more damage than fire, 
it seemed wise to relabel ere the ink faded altogether. 
Seated in front of my table and thus occupied, a singu¬ 
lar revelation flashed out before my eyes. The clock 
had just tolled the hour before midnight when I held 
the two small bits of stone in the palm of my left hand 
which in its natural position should have been to the left 
of the lamp. What unseen influence caused me to 
cross my left hand to the right of the lamp and then and 
there to touch one piece with my right forefinger? It 
rolled over and startled me with what appeared to be 
an apparition. Memory, that subtle force, darted 
across the great ocean and up the mountain to the sim¬ 
ple village where eight years before I had seen a face 
very like to one lying on the palm of my left hand. 
Words can give no idea of the thrill of emotion which 
held me speechless. Realistic as had been Joseph May¬ 
er’s acting, surrounded as he was with accessories con¬ 
nected with the Passion Play, the lifeless rock with its 
face of agony which now for the first time attracted my 
attention, overpowered me. I looked and looked and 
wondered. I was quite sure that I held an uncarved 
bit of stone, yet there was the face, almost more attract¬ 
ive than I have ever seen it. Since that moment of su¬ 
preme surprise thousands have held it in their own 
hands and have gone away awed by its vivid portrayal. 
One must study this work of nature to be able to appre- 


38 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


date it, this “that hath no form, nor comeliness, nor 
beauty that we should desire it.” By actual measure¬ 
ment the surface is but one inch long, yet the anatomi¬ 
cal drawing is in just proportion, with no detail miss¬ 
ing. The surface is a mass of excrescences that cast 
their shadows to form the face; thus the eyelash is 
the shadow from a fine projecting point, the mous¬ 
tache that of shadow beside shadow with lines of light 
between that simulate strands of hair. A boy of ten 
summers first detected that the eyes opened and closed. 
I remonstrated, assuring him there was no miracle 
wrought. The little lad’s voice trembled as he replied, 
“I did see the eyelash move as you tilted the box.” He 
was correct, for photography catches these different ef¬ 
fects ; the lens tells the truth. These right angles or 
acute angles then, make the eye close as if in an eter¬ 
nal sorrow, the mouth drooped or more drooping, the 
brow ploughed deeply with the furrows of pain, the 
nostrils grown thin through lack of breath, the whole 
face weary and worn; recalling another of the Ober- 
Ammergau representations when Christus lay pros¬ 
trate on the ground in the garden of Gethsemane, his 
locks wet with the dew of heaven. 

It is remarkable to find human features on the folds 
of nature’s mysterious book, the everlasting rock; but 
this “Real Stone Face” with its .furrowed brow yet 
calm expression of resignation is enough to thrill every 
human heart. Were our senses not dull, many other 
secrets of the inanimate world would be entrusted to 
our keeping and stranger things brought to our knowl¬ 
edge. The stone the builders reject might become the 
headstone of the corner. 



Rough Heart-shaped Surface. 






THE REAL STONE FACE. 


39 


I often wonder why I should have stooped and 
picked up that particular piece from the midst of myr¬ 
iads round about, then, that after the lapse of eight 
years it should suddenly flash on my consciousness the 
semblance of a face that has appealed to the finer in¬ 
stincts of thousands. Chance plays a great part in our 
lives, but surely this was not chance. 

“There is a divinity which shapes our ends, 

Rough hew them how we will. ” 

On my return to America after many years’absence I 
am surprised to note the height of new buildings in our 
large cities. It is a simple thing to put into position 
upright beams of iron or steel, then to fill in with brick 
and mortar. The formation of this “Real Stone Face” 
is more to be wondered at than the architecture of the 
highest building in the world. 

Nature is indeed a silent teacher to those who appre¬ 
ciate her lovely plants. The delicate veining of leaves, 
the exquisite colour of flowers, or the rainbow tints on 
a seashell as clearly reveal the brush-marks of the ideal 
picture-maker as does the western sky with its tints of 
gold and purple. There must be a supreme power, yet 
some men in more abstruse paths seek for the truth, 
calmly asserting that the works of God are merely reno¬ 
vated matter. 

Without rain, dew and sunshine, there would be no 
beauty, and my opinion is these three, as factors, have 
combined to produce the roughness that, by its shad¬ 
ows, brings into view this singular representation. 

However, it is possible that in breaking the rocks 
for the roadway it may have assumed its present shape. 


40 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


This face in stone is not after the manner of faces 
fashioned by art, its wonder increases when studied 
through a magnifying glass. 

Mineral substances are affected by winter’s rain or 
summer’s sun ; and so undergo a process of disintegra¬ 
tion, else we would have the “Philosopher’s Stone.” 
The “Real Stone Face” shows unmistakable signs of 
weathering, yet no geologist has essayed to compute 
its age. With due deference for Darwin’s learning, he 
himself could not affirm whether it had rested on the 
mountainside for centuries or for a day. As the years 
roll by, will this small fraction of silicious rock disinte¬ 
grate? Will the sharp excrescences which produce the 
furrowed brow chip off and so leave the face placid? 
There is neither neck, shoulders or body, only the pro¬ 
file with a pathetic expression. 

Although found in an atmosphere of religious fer¬ 
vor, no taint of superstition or even undue reverence 
clings to this dew-wrought bit of sculpture. When 
handwritten parchment was the only means of dissem¬ 
inating knowledge, miracles were needed and Christ 
himself performed them, converting a few little fish 
into many. The forces of science written about in 
innumerable books does away with this need of occult 
power. 

The foaming waters of Niagara will continue to awe 
us, the growth of trees in the Yosemite amaze us, but 
in the contemplation of this singular portrayal with 
the poet, we say, there are— 

“Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 

Sermons in stones, and good in everything. ’’ 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


41 


This “Real Stoiie Face” now has a world-wide rep¬ 
utation. Thousands, both rich and poor, have studied 
it with interest mingled with amazement. 

In London a cabman had heard of it from my cook; 
he rang my bell one evening and asked if he might see 
“how God had painted the face of His Son?” I re¬ 
plied, “You are as welcome to see the stone as the 
Queen herself.” Understand clearly that I do not 
claim that this inanimate object resembles the Christ. 
I, a mere mortal, would not dare to make such an as¬ 
sertion, when the Bible distinctly says, “Blessed are 
they who have not seen, and yet have believed. We 
see the type of features generally accepted, nothing 
more. One must establish the authenticity of the 
Christ pictures before coming to such a broad conclu¬ 
sion. In the Borghese, Rome, is a “Deposition from 
the Cross” that has a sad, patient face. Guardabassi’s 
representation of the “Risen Lord Meeting the Three 
Marys,” has a similar expression. This is in St. Lu¬ 
cas, Rome. Ruben’s noted canvas in Brussels of the 
“Dead Savior” has the closed eye, and “The Entomb¬ 
ment,” in Antwerp, by Vandyke has the hollow cheek. 
In Amsterdam I noted De Crayer’s “Descent from the 
Cross,” with a short nose, the face in profile much like 
the form we see on the stone when held at a right 
angle with the light. 

The greatest men are without doubt the most simple 
in their manner. Having a cup of tea with us in our 
apartments at Oxford, England, Professor Max Mtil¬ 
ler exclaimed when he saw the little curio, “The 
chapter of accidents is much larger than we imagine.” 


42 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


These words from his heart, yet warm upon his lips, 
were written by my request and are more prized than 
pages thought out by even such a great man as he. I 
have a hundred or more letters from learned men and 
women who have examined the rare stone from the 
Kopfel, but transcribe only a few well known in the 
scientific and literary world. Rev. Alexander Cargill, 
D.D., a noted archeologist of Edinburgh, Scotland, in 
a recent letter says, “Your find is a far more enthralling 
story than any that' tells of the discovery of any of the 
great diamonds of the world, from the ancient Kohi- 
noor, or great Mogul of Shah Isham, to the Orlofif, or 
star of the South; each of inestimable value. There 
may be many other diamonds yet to be discovered, but 
it would be a miracle indeed if there is another ‘Stone 
Portrait’ such as you had the amazing good fortune 
to find. How I envy you its possession!” 

Again Canon Duckworth, of Westminster Abbey, 
says: “I .can not sufficiently wonder at the strange 
chance by which you happened to place it, eight years 
after, in the light which disclosed the extraordinary 
resemblance it reveals to the traditional portraits of 
our Lord in his death agony. No cameo engraved by 
the best artists could have presented a more impres¬ 
sive picture of the sacred head surrounded by crown 
of piercing thorns.” 

A gentleman from the House of Lords called three 
times at my hotel in London. He wished the Duke of 
Norfolk to own this curio. I replied, “It is not for 
sale.” Both these men are ardent Roman Catholics. 

When the lovely Queen of Italy examined it she ex¬ 
claimed, “How beautiful it is !” 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


43 


The Duchess of Albany looked, then with a sweet 
foreign accent said, “I see a. rough bit of rock.” 
Directly the position was changed she whispered, “It 
is a clearly defined face.” 

In Chigwell, made memorable by the scenes in one 
of Dicken’s works, I had the honour of a seat at a 
lunch party next to Lord Hugh Cecil (Lord Salisbury’s 
son). He had seen the rock face and he assured me 
he was amazed with the reality of its delineation. 
The Rector of St. Giles, Cripple Gate, London, in¬ 
vited a number of friends to meet me at tea, and they 
were each deeply impressed. A daughter of the late 
Archdeacon Hale, of the old Charter House, honoured 
me in like manner; and Lady Dyce Duckworth also in¬ 
vited me to tea, as Sir Dyce wished to see my posses¬ 
sion. One of the most distinguished and busy sur¬ 
geons of London, Sir Dyce yet spared the time to drive 
away in search of one of the Queen’s surgeons, who 
wrote in my book, “A most remarkable stone.” The 
Bishop of Ripon and Mrs. Boyd Carpenter invited me 
to lunch at the old Palace of Ripon, that his lordship 
might carefully study this formation. He had with 
him a well-known Oxford professor. Their opinions 
are in accord with every one who has ever seen the 
face in its best expression. Visiting at the charming 
home of Sir John and Lady Jennings, at Reigate, their 
friends and neighbors each expressed a deep interest 
in my treasure, and during the three* weeks that I was 
the guest of Honorable Reginald Yarde-Buller, from 
far and near they came to the rectory to look and 
wonder. I could lengthen this list, but these are suf- 


44 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


ficient to prove how others regard this work of na¬ 
ture. My autograph book is now most valuable. 

One week before Miss Francis Willard passed from 
earth, I called at her hotel. She was not strong enough 
to see me, but she asked if the little velvet case could 
be brought to her bedside. Rarely do I entrust it to 
anyone, but Miss Gordon, her secretary, returned with 
this message: “ The little rock bears the sweetest ex¬ 

pression of the Christ face I have ever seen.” Cardi¬ 
nal Gibbons wrote in my book, “A remarkable expres¬ 
sion of the Man of Sorrows.” Bishops and digna- 
taries of the church have looked and shown their sur¬ 
prise. Dr. Lyman Abbott stated from his pulpit in 
Brooklyn that he had examined this rock formation 
and knew it to be a perfectly natural one. Major J. 
B. Pond, of the lecture bureau of New York, invited a 
number of distinguished men and women to hear me 
tell of my finding the curio. In the parlors of his 
home in Jersey City, Marion Crawford, Hall Caine, 
and others gave their first lectures in America. 
Major Pond said, and afterwards wrote me, “The 
story you tell is the most thrilling I ever listened to, 
and I shall recommend your lecture to committees far 
and wide.” 

The head of the Civil Service College in London sent 
to the classroom for a small boy to bring his pencil and 
pap,er to his office. “Sit down,” said he, “and draw me 
what you see.” The lad went studiously to work and 
produced a pencil drawing strangely typical of the ac¬ 
cepted Christ pictures. A young man in Devonshire 
about to enter the ministry lay ill unto death. To 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


45 


those about him he frequently said: “ I see that sweet 

face; it is so small, but its expression of patience bids 
me be resigned and patient under my suffering.” It 
appears the last day he was up and about I had told 
him the simple story of the “Real Stone Face.” 

In Rome, Italy, Professor J. Russell Forbes, Ph.D., 
the archeologist, sent for his little six-year-old boy, 
who was at play. “What do you see, my son?” The 
innocent child studied it for a moment, then looking 
into his father’s face said, “Papa, it is Jesus.” Dr. 
Forbes turned to me with the words, “Out of the 
mouth of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected 
praise.” 

Only a few weeks ago, in Columbia, South Carolina, 
a boy, after looking at the miniature, accompanied his 
mother home, and when repeating his evening prayer 
at her knee, surprised her with these words. “Dear 
Jesus, I am glad that I saw that face, I will try and not 
be an impatient boy again. I will remember the pa¬ 
tient look on the “Real Stone Face.” 

A clergyman, after his parishioners had seen the 
curio and heard my lecture, wrote me: “Never has 
anything impressed me more than the sight of that 
face, so full of dignity and resignation, of agony and 
peace.” A distinguished lawyer of New Jersey while 
listening to my narration of the discovery of this nat¬ 
ural curio, remarked to his wife aside, “How like a 
woman, to be carried away by her imagination.” Di¬ 
rectly he too examined the stone, he exclaimed, “Why, 
not the half has been said! It is worth a trip to Cali¬ 
fornia to study it.” 


46 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


These personal experiences are given with the hope 
of adding to the interest in this work of the great Cre¬ 
ator. I remember that when visiting at the lovely home 
of Dr. and Mrs. Loudon at Hamilton, Scotland, the 
Doctor gave me a few strands of hair cut from the head 
of Livingstone (the great explorer) after his body was 
brought to England by his faithful African boys. Dr. 
Loudon was the physician and personal friend of 
Livingstone. These strands of brown hair would be 
of no value, but for the knowledge we have of his ex¬ 
ploits in the jungles of Africa. 

Before leaving England, Mr. Grenfell, of Oxford, 
sent me a copy of his book entitled “The Saying of our 
Lord.” He has been at work in the Lybian desert un¬ 
der the auspices of the “Egyptian Exploration Fund.” 
The papyrus, a translation of which he gives, has eight 
sayings, or Logion of our Lord, five of which are to be 
found in the Bible; but we are not familar with the re¬ 
maining three, one of which reads “Jesus saith, where 
there is one . . . alone . I am with him. Raise the stone 
and there thou shall find me, cleave the wood and there 
am I.” This would indicate that Christ is to be found 
in everything. Under the arid sands of the desert this 
papyrus has been hid away for centuries, only now 
to be brought to the light of the present day by the 
friendly touch of two young Englishmen. 

About this curious piece of stone a new field of 
thought has developed. A friend in New York sent 
one of my books, with photographs, to an inmate of 
Bloomingdale Asylum. He, a man of brilliant but 
diseased mind, wrote to say that he had discovered the 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


47 


letters J. C. and the head of Aristotle on the photo¬ 
graphs. In a spirit of curiosity I sought to find the 
forms he had seen, and lo! there loomed into clear out¬ 
line numbers of resemblances that suggest Biblical 
characters. 

Children recognize the form of two small fish, sym¬ 
bolical of early Christians; the head of a wolf, and of a 
goat with a collar about the neck; a horse with a cherub 
above it, an owl, a lion and a lamb. “The lion and the 
lamb shall lie down together and a little child shall lead 
them.” Under a canopy is the form and figure of a 
woman seated, holding an infant in her arms. This 
certainly is not unlike the pictures we see in Europe 
of the Madonna and child. The entombment is real¬ 
istic. In a cave a figure robed in white lies prostrate, 
not the slightest effort of the imagination being re¬ 
quired to see the rigid outlines of death. In the left- 
hand upper corner are three distinctly outlined crosses, 
on two of which figures hang, with the arms over the 
crossbeams. Invert them, and one simulates a man 
in white Eastern costume clinging to the rock above his 
head, as if to say, “Rock of ages, cleft for me.” The 
other cross inverted clearly represents a man seated, 
with his head resting against the tomb, evidently 
asleep. Is this not a poem in stone? We need but to 
read it with intelligent minds. 

The entire surface of the stone is in the shape of a 
human heart, riven through the centre. Turn it up¬ 
side down and many exclaim, “The lion of the tribe of 
Judah J” The face of a lion is there, unmistakably. 

As to the origin of this curio I am as ignorant as I 


48 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


was the night on which it flashed into view. The great 
minds that have studied it have shed no light to illu¬ 
mine my eyes. The Supreme Creator who brought 
into existence and fixed the laws of nature so that at 
the ebb and flow of tides the ocean bed is not emptied; 
stars move as suns to other planets, and the moon, obe¬ 
dient, follows in the path of the sun, was He not skill¬ 
ful enough to cut jagged edges that cast shadows to 
form a face ? The discovery was intended to open our 
receptive minds to a more appreciative knowledge of 
His power over nature. With a distinguished clergy¬ 
man, I would say, “If nature sympathized with Him 
in His death, and the rocks were rent, is it at all 
strange that He should leave His impress upon the 
pages of her mysterious book?” 

Just here a quotation from one of Professor Max 
M idler’s books seems suitable: “There are few sensa¬ 
tions more pleasant than that of wondering. We have 
all experienced it in childhood, in youth, and in our 
manhood, and we may hope that even in our old age 
this affection of the mind will not entirely pass away. 
If we analyze this feeling of wonder carefully,* we shall 
find that it consists of two elements. What we mean 
by wondering is not only , that we are startled or 
stunned—that I should call the merely passive element 
of wonder. When we say T wonder’ we confess that 
we are taken aback, but there is a secret satisfaction 
mixed up with our feeling of surprise, a kind of hope, 
nay, almost of certainty, that sooner or later the won¬ 
der will cease, that our senses or our minds will re¬ 
cover, will grapple with the novel impression or expe- 



These pictures are to be found on the surface of the rough stone; suggesting to my mind— 


1. Father Abraham. 

2. Portrait on the wall. 

3. Child’s face. 

4. Girl with lily. 

5. Esther and the King. 


6. Virgin and Child. 12. 

7. Ram’s head. 13. 

8. Wolf and scapegoat. 14. 

9. Horses’ heads. 15. 

10. Asleep beside the tomb. 16. 
xi. Simon of Cyrene. 


Rock of Ages cleft for me. 
Three crosses. 

An open sepulchre. 

The Entombment. 

The Ascension. 




















• .... 



- • • 




















THE REAL STONE FACE. 


49 


rience, grasp them, it may be, throw them, and finally 
triumph over them. In fact, we wonder at the riddles 
of nature, whether animated or inanimated, with a 
firm conviction that there is a solution to them, even 
though we ourselves may not be able to find it.” 

Suppose we gather from the roadside a number of 
bits of limestone or granite, and then put them before 
a photographer’s lens. From a thousand plates, one 
may suggest a human form or face. The small rock 
from the Kopfel at Ober-Ammergau is but one inch 
long; it has been stamped on glass by the aid of a 
snap-camera, and on the photograph which shows 
the mere rough excrescences, I have already discov¬ 
ered over forty portrayals that require no effort of the 
imagination to see. 

This curio has been entrusted to my keeping. I 
hope a study of its formation will stimulate others to 
delve into the deep and hidden secrets of nature, thereby 
unfolding the leaves of her book, the everlasting rock. 
Surely it will repay an earnest student. 


CHAPTER IV. 


“What else is chance but the rude stone which receives its life 
from the sculptor’s hand? Providence gives us chance, and 
man must mould it to his own designs.’’— Schiller. 

Nature is a curious workshop. Effects produced 
in organic life may be that of design, because of her 
power of reproduction. Inorganic life suggests 
chance, notwithstanding the philosophical fact that in 
nature there is no chance or accident. We speak of 
chance as an event that happens without being con¬ 
trived, intended, or foreseen. The rending of a rock, 
the breaking of a stone, or the splintering of a tree 
may be accident or chance, but we find marks of order 
on the broken surface, and we exclaim, “Where can 
one lay hand on accident with assurance and say we 
have located it.” 

Year by year unwritten books of nature are being 
read, yet her problems are unsolved. Why is a poppy 
red? Has an alchemist ever answered that question? 
Grass-blades cover the earth, violets perfume the air 
in their season, and the fruits of autumn ripen. Her¬ 
bert Spencer calls this “eternal energy.” Surely, this 
eternal energy must have something eternal to sus¬ 
tain it. 

Everything in nature is made up of minute particles 
or molecules. We think of the stones of the fields as a 
compact mass, but Sir Robert Ball, the great scientist, 
who is an authority on astronomy as well, tells us that 
the molecules of a diamond are always in rapid and 
curious, motion: “Were our powers for seeing mag- 


50 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


51 


nified sufficiently we would note that each molecule is 
swinging to and fro, quivering from the shock it re¬ 
ceives from others of its kind. Its very hardness 
comes from the tiny particles hammering at whatso¬ 
ever touches it.” Could our finite minds delve into 
and decipher the lessons that surround us the world 
would not contain the books that would be written. 
Frederick Dixon says, “Every fossil, as well as recent 
being, is the record of the will of God.” Inanimate 
nature preceded man, God’s highest work. Job was 
asked, “Where wast thou when the foundations of the 
earth were laid, and the corner-stones thereof ?” 

We instinctively inquire into the works of the Al¬ 
mighty Creator, and lovers of nature gladly give her 
handiwork a place in the world’s gallery of art, mean¬ 
while impressed by her varied forms and fancies seen 
in sky, smoke, or on mountain-peak. 

Artists have had their keenest inspiration from some 
shadowy vision outlined at twilight. 

Coleridge wrote— 

“Oh! it is pleasant with a heart at ease, 

Just after sunset, or by moonlit skies, 

To make the shifting clouds seem what you please.” 

Study the embers on your own hearthstone. Faces 
and forms loom up in realistic outline, endure but a 
moment, then crumble, as do our air-castles or day¬ 
dreams. If the farmer would lift his eyes from his 
furrows he would often see pictured in floating clouds 
golden sheaves, designed by one who giveth rain for 
the parched earth, or sunshine for growing plants. 

Natural curiosities add to our enjoyment and cer- 


52 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


tainly stimulate our imitative minds. We have art- 
lessons on glass of a cold and frosty morning far sur¬ 
passing in delicacy the touch of man or woman. 

Building is exemplified by the Agassiz rock in Cal¬ 
ifornia as it stands poised on a broken ledge. I felt, 
in gazing at it, that one touch would send it on and on 
down the dizzy height. In truth, the world seems a 
kind of gigantic “kindergarten.” Before ever there 
was a lamb to bleat, a shoulder of mutton was pre¬ 
figured; ere a leg of man to wear a boot, Italy fur¬ 
nished the pattern for a cobbler. 

The outer crust of the earth is composed of two 
leading types of structure, crystallite and fragmental. 
When this shell bends or shrinks after the upheaval of 
hot rock from subterranean movement, we have what 
is termed an earthquake. Since the beginning of this 
century no less than fifty-two islands have arisen out 
of the sea. Nineteen have since disappeared, but ten 
are now inhabited. Scientists are deeply interested in 
these fierce furnace fires. The growth of the tiniest 
flower is as mysterious and deep a problem, but famil¬ 
iarity leads us to pass it by, as only a perishable plant. 
Darwin specifies three hundred millions of years as 
the time necessary for the accumulation of salt, coal, 
or mineral—a mere man daring to limit the power of 
the Almighty to a fixed period. 

Chemical compounds of minerals, called agate, min¬ 
gle in a haphazard way and frequently delineate minia¬ 
ture trees, rocks and mountains, rarely the outlines of 
a face. Weird and grotesque forms are chiseled by 
the wear of time, but not so definite as to impress one 
with the idea that it is the handiwork of man. 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


53 


Travelers are familiar with the couchant lion in 
Corsica, guarding the port of Bastia; off the straits of 
Messina the bear, and in Scotland a cobbler gives his 
name to the mountain on which he sits. Conway has 
its white horse, and Bettws-y-coed, Wales, the “Grand 
old man” of the nineteenth century. 

At Grasmere, England, our thoughts were en¬ 
grossed with memories of Wordsworth, the gifted 
poet who wrote— 

“In spots like these it is we prize our memory 
And feel that she hath eyes.” 

We forgot to inquire where the lion and lamb could 
be seen outlined on the topmost point of a mountain. 
The sun burnished the western sky with brilliant hues, 
when we chanced to walk to a point of vantage; there 
we caught sight of the king of beasts couched, with a 
lamb between his forepaws, as if about to partake of 
his evening meal; a realistic, natural picture this, 
with a gorgeous sunset for a background. Some dis¬ 
tance on the road toward Keswick these identical 
boulders of rock change their form and simulate a 
woman playing upon an organ. Closer examination 
showed a mass of granite boulders lying in wild con¬ 
fusion. 

Shakespeare wrote— 

“Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragcnish 
A vapour sometimes like a bear or lion, 

A towering citadel, a pendant rock, 

A forked mountain, or blue promontory 
With trees upon it, that nods into the world, 

And mocks our eyes with air.” 


54 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


Near Schwalbach, Germany, there is a wood giant 
crowned with living green leaves. The natural effect 
is ruined by an artistically chiseled mouth. Tun¬ 
bridge Wells, England, has a fine specimen of a toad 
rock, and in Derbyshire, a lion’s face beside a running 
stream. In crossing the Furka pass, Switzerland, I 
discovered a well-defined face of a clown on the moun¬ 
tainside. Our coachman expressed surprise that on 
his weekly trips, year by year, he had failed to notice 
it. 

The late poet-laureate speaks of— 

“The face that men 

Shape to their fancy’s eye from broken rocks 
On some cliff side.” 

In America we have a “Crowing Cock” and a 
“Sleeping Beauty.” This latter rests upon a stone 
couch; it may be of minerals, gold, silver, or iron. 
Every one has read of “The Mount of the Holy Cross” 
in the Rocky mountains. With high peaks on the 
right and left, on a mountainside, is a tremendous 
cross, as white as snow. It appears to be snow drifted 
into gullies that cross at right angles. Again, in the 
Franconian Notch, New Hampshire, we find a “Great 
Stone Face,” with Indian features. There, two thou¬ 
sand feet above the sea level, this massive head appears 
to gaze down the valley through a misty veil of cloud 
and sky. The story is that over eighty years ago two 
hunters, searching for wild game, chanced to get into 
exact position to discern this resemblant form. Three 
disconnected boulders of granite, each about forty feet 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


55 


high and twelve hundred feet above the placid mountain 
lake, have tumbled into line to form “The Old Man of 
the Mountain,” but a few feet to right or left the ap¬ 
pearance is spoiled. Should even a fraction of these 
boulders crumble or break, the giant that has weath¬ 
ered the storms of centuries will be lost to view, even 
as frail man bows his head and is no more. An In¬ 
dian chief is said to have called a solemn conclave and 
so it was decided to give this visible manifestation of 
the Great Spirit a place in the worship of the valley 
tribes. 

On a spur of the Cordilleras is the outline of the 
body and spire of a cathedral, visible at a distance of 
sixty miles. 

It has been a matter of great surprise to me, in visit¬ 
ing the museums of Europe and America, to find so 
few and imperfect representations of the human form 
or face in stone or in wood. 

In 1665 I find, a Jesuit priest, professor of mathe¬ 
matics in the Roman college, compiled and had printed 
in Amsterdam a series of engravings which he claims 
to have found on stone, also the entire alphabet, John 
the Baptist, the Virgin Mary, and Christ crucified. 
Judging from the reproductions, both author and artist 
drew upon their imagination, which was born and 
fostered by superstition, a characteristic of the time in 
which they lived. 

In the Pitts-Rivers Collection, Oxford University 
Museum, is a flint singularly like the head and neck of 
a pigeon; the eye, however, has been artificially chis¬ 
eled. This was picked up at Brandon, Suffolk, Eng- 


S6 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


land. Streeter, a Bond street, London, jeweller, 
showed me with pride a rough diamond which, by the 
aid of the imagination, suggests the face and head of 
Lord Salisbury. During a recent visit in South Dev¬ 
onshire, England, Colonel and Mrs. F. sent me for 
lunch an enormous crab. In breaking one claw, quite 
accidentally I discovered the representation of a stork 
standing over a coiled snake. This old crab was cov¬ 
ered with an incrustation of the serpula, and these 
stonelike molecules chanced to assume a realistic form. 
Numberless outlines in greyish granite are found in 
the Clifton quarries. South Kensington has the 
Chaucer head. The upper portion is good, but from the 
nose downward it is chaotic nothingness. This bit of 
brown jasper, it appears, was thrown by a native of 
Cairo at his tired donkey to spur its movements; it 
missed the poor brute, struck a wall and split in two. 
An Englishman, eye-witness to this brutality, picked 
up one half to fling at the owner, but caught sight of 
the resemblance to a face and sent it to England in¬ 
stead. The, late Sir A. W. Franks, of the British Mu¬ 
seum, allowed me to handle the flint with a fairly de¬ 
fined head of “Pitts, the Great Premier of England.” 
He also pointed out the black paper that outlines the 
head on which is printed in gold letters, “Oh! my 
country.” Dr. Geinitz, of the “Green Vault” in Dres¬ 
den, showed me German sausage in stone, but he 
would not vouch for its genuineness; and Dr. Grun- 
ling, of the Royal Museum of Munich, took great de¬ 
light in a “Ghost Hand.” This dainty five-fingered 
crystal was in the centre of a Geode. On the banks of 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


57 


the Mississippi there was picked up a Geode with a 
finely shaped cross of purest crystal. I saw in a mon¬ 
astery in Russia a moss agate elaborately mounted 
in gold and pearls. The veining of the stone repre¬ 
sents an upright cross with a figure nailed to it; in 
front kneels a monk in flowing robes. Not being al¬ 
lowed to scrutinize it left me in doubt as to its being 
entirely a work of nature. Semeria, a wealthy Gen¬ 
oese, presented to Louis XIV., of France, a pearl 
weighing a hundred grains. Its shape is that of the 
torso of a man. This pearl is mounted artistically. 
The head and arms are made of hammered gold tacked 
to the pearl with gold nails, the helmet and plumes of 
gold and diamonds, the sash and cloak of blue enamel 
studded with “fleur-de-lis,” the lance of gold with a 
solitaire diamond in its head. The pedestal, bordered 
with thirty-two large diamonds, rubies and topazes, is 
supported by four golden sphinxes. This pearl came 
from the Indies and was the wonder of the French 
court. We often miss curious freaks, for the reason 
that we appear indifferent to them. In passing a 
piece of damp black velvet across the tin flue of my 
kerosene stove, the colouring matter deposited delin¬ 
eates a figure walking ankle deep in water, the arms 
outstretched. This has been photographed. 

In England there is grown the “sacred clover,” 
which has on each leaf a blood-red spot. The dry 
seed-pod, when unwound, forms a perfect crown of 
thorns, and it always contains seven seeds and a long 
fibre like a rope. The legend in regard to it is that it 
grew at the foot of the cross on Calvary. I have cul- 


58 


THE REAL STONE 'FACE. 


tivated it . and had it photographed. A collection of 
these chance pictures would form an interesting study. 

Visiting from museum to museum during my ram¬ 
bles over the world, I was deeply interested in meteor¬ 
ites. The largest weighs eighty tons and was 
brought from Greenland by Lieutenant Peary, in 1897. 

At one period the worship of these and other stones 
was a widespread cult; however, its worshipers have 
disappeared, as has the “Black Fetich,” so greatly 
prized and reverenced at Rome. 

These gods resemble Geodes, and were received as 
direct gifts from heaven. The ancient altars of sacri¬ 
fice were built of unhewn stone, and tables written 
with the finger of God contained the law of His chosen 
people. One is surprised at the number of references 
in the Bible to rock or stone as a simile of Christ. 
Samuel says, “The Lord is my rock;” David speaks 
of “God my rock,” “Lead me to the rock,” “For thy 
servants take pleasure in her stones”; Isaiah takes up 
the simile, “I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a 
tried stone,” “The eyes of them that see shall not be 
dim; and the ears of them that hear shall hearken”; 
then Job tells of how “The waters wear the stones,” 
“The rock is removed out -of his place,” “For thou 
shalt be in league with the stones of the field;” and the 
sweet singer of Israel takes up the refrain, “Who is a 
rock save our God ?” “Thou hast made us to drink the 
wine of astonishment. Thou doest wondrous things.” 

Among imaginative races and in wild and mountain¬ 
ous regions the power of nature is still worshiped,, 
and in this enlightened age pilgrimages are made to 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


59 


such places as the fountain of Lourdes in France. On 
February 25, 1858, it is claimed, the Virgin Mary ap¬ 
peared to two peasant girls, there assuring them the wa¬ 
ter would cure every human malady. A costly church 
has been erected over the grotto, and in 1876, in the 
presence of thirty-five cardinals of the Romish church, 
it was consecrated. In one year as many as twenty 
thousand pilgrims have visited the spot; the water is 
also sold in large quantities. There is still a belief 
that personal influence assists in the formation of cer¬ 
tain natural phenomenon, and men and women will 
affirm that marks of intelligent development are to be 
found in the atoms of which the world is built. 

The Jew has a great regard for every stone in the 
old wall of Solomon about Jerusalem. To this wall 
they confide their sorrows; their fathers had gone to it" 
for solace, and now it links the past with the present 
and gives them comfort. In Germany are many storied 
spots around which cluster legends, and in Ireland the 
poetess Catherine Tynan has pictured the “Legend 
of the Christ of Unternach.” It runs somewhat on 
this wise: A knight, after a life of sin, grows weary 
and resolves to strive after better things. He sets his 
vassals free and gives his wealth to the poor and to 
the building of a monastery. He enters the church 
and dons the robes of gray. Long years after, in mak¬ 
ing confession of his sins to the Bishop, he was refused 
absolution with the words, “When thy staff shall bud 
and bloom fair lilies I will speak thy pardon”; out on 
the snowy way he then walked, until he reached a cru¬ 
cifix, where burned a tiny lamp. In loving pity the 


6o 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


face of the crucified seemed to look upon him. With 
his lips pressed to the blood-stained feet he swooned, 
still grasping his stick. In the morning he was found 
cold and stiff, but his pilgrim’s staff was covered with 
blooming lilies. 


CHAPTER V. 


CHRIST IN ART. 

“ O ! sacred head, once wounded, 

With grief and pain weighed down. 

* * * * 

How does that visage languish 
Which once was bright as morn.” 

—Gerherd. 

Christ, the name used for the Saviour, is of Greek 
origin and signifies “Anointed;” it corresponds with 
the Hebrew word Messiah. This appellation given 
Jesus of Nazareth really intimates that He is the Sav¬ 
iour promised to the house of Jacob. The word Jesus 
means, “He shall save his people from their sins.” 

The birth of Christ is fixed before the Christian era, 
but the precise date can not be determined, nor yet the 
year of His death. Christ was not born at the end of 
December, for shepherds were watching their flocks 
in the fields when the star arose that was to lead them 
to the manger where the young child was cradled. 

The doctrine of Christianity depends on the person¬ 
ality of our Lord. Early heretics contend that His 
body was not a real body, but a visionary appearance; 
others that He was a mere man. Christians regard 
Christ as the Godman in two distinct natures but one 
person, the incarnate second person of the Godhead. 

The horror entertained for the idols of the pagans 
inclined early Christians to look with disfavor upon 
61 


62 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


any image or pictorial delineation of their risen Master. 
As paganism disappeared, the followers of the meek 
and lowly Man of Galilee longed for some ideal, some 
tangible thought on paper or canvas of His face and 
form; and I believe those who had seen the Lord in the 
flesh tried to portray His features. The very ugliness 
of the first pictures helps rather than otherwise to 
prove that the work was the work of His followers, al¬ 
though they had little knowledge of art. What more 
natural than for Peter, whose heart was swelling with 
love and his mind overwhelmed with contrition, to 
attempt to put on paper the counterpart of that face 
that was ever before his mind’s eye, with its expression 
of compassion for him and his guilty denial; then, for 
him in his impulsiveness to pass it to some one more 
versed in the use of pencil or brush, begging that he 
would portray a more spiritual face. With this clue 
we can imagine the first artists striving constantly to 
embellish and make the face more harmonious and 
beautiful, never deviating, however, from the type of 
features. The very homeliest portrayal has a deeper, 
a stronger hold upon our hearts than imaginative pic¬ 
tures painted by the gifted artists of a later age. 
Their works may be works of art, but not truthful de¬ 
lineations from the life. It is difficult for us to accept 
a preconceived idea of Christ in colour or form. He 
who gave His life that men might live inspires us with 
a lofty idea too sublime for human fingers to portray. 
His life was not marred by sin, His face should there¬ 
fore be incomparably beautiful. His divinity no man 
can depict. When the son of Joseph and Mary went 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


63 


from city to city doing good, there was a law that for¬ 
bade the making of pictures. Art as we know it 
scarcely had an existence. 

However, we have representations of St. Peter and 
St. Paul that have been accepted, then why may we 
not credit the likenesses of Christ, imperfect as they 
are? When we speak of the likeness of Christ we do 
not designate any particular picture, referring rather 
to the cast of features painters have kept in their 
mind’s eye as a type ever since the moment when the 
first artist attempted to put on canvas or in mosaic 
the counterpart of that “visage that was marred, so 
marred more than any man’s.” 

Not one of these so-called representations of Christ 
satisfied “the old masters.” Each one in his turn 
strove zealously to conceive a higher ideal, a more 
spiritual face. 

Paintings of Christ or of the Virgin Mary, no mat¬ 
ter how well executed, do not impress us as a thing to 
be worshiped or adored. Professor Max Muller, of 
Oxford, says, “If at the sight of a portrait of a be¬ 
loved and venerated friend no longer existing in this 
world our heart is filled with sentiments of love and 
veneration, if we fancy him present in the picture, still 
looking upon us with his wonted tenderness and affec¬ 
tion, and' then indulge our feelings of love and grati¬ 
tude, should we be charged with offering the greatest 
insult to him—that of fancying him to be none other 
than a piece of painted paper?” 

It is surprising that even zealous Christians held 
the earliest pictures of Christ in veneration, for they 


6 4 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


are ugly in the extreme. On the arch of triumph at 
the church of St. Paul’s, without the walls of Rome, is 
a face repulsive, with a short beard and heavy mous¬ 
tache, large and staring eyes and long hair falling over 
the shoulder. This was a gift from the Empress Galla 
Placidia, in 450. There is another almost identical 
with this in the Baptistry at Revena, also a gift of the 
Empress. On her tomb, however, the Shepherd of 
Israel is represented as a beardless youth. 

There are two portraits that at least have the merit 
of antiquity and date from the first century. One is 
cut on an emerald it is supposed by the order of the 
Emperor Tiberius. It fell into the possession of the 
Turks and was stored in the treasury at Constantino¬ 
ple. In 1483 the Sultan gave it to Pope Innocent the 
VIII. as a ransom for his brother. The Veronica 
handkerchief is presumably a reproduction from this. 
The second delineation is a brass medallion found in 
Anglesca, Wales, in 1702. The inscription reads, 
“This is a picture of the prophet Jesus.” 

In the time of Nero, not long after our Lord’s as¬ 
cension, His followers took refuge from prosecution in 
the Catacombs of Rome, which measure seven hun¬ 
dred and fifty miles. Under the city and Campagna is 
hollow with them. About those subterranean passages 
and corridors the infant church kept alive its cherished 
religious ceremonies. It is not surprising that the 
walls and grave ornaments have painted on them por¬ 
trayals of Bible scenes in which the “Carpenter’s Son” 
figures. Lord Lindsay says the earliest efforts 
emerged “above ground about the time of Constan- 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


65 


tine”; before that, they were hid away in the Cata¬ 
combs. Christ is there represented as a “Good Shep¬ 
herd,” with pastoral pipe, seeking the lost sheep, or 
leading his flock beside cool streams in grassy mead¬ 
ows ; again, feeding five thousand, or blessing little 
children. One artist will depict Christ as an ideal 
youth in the bloom of health, another as a bearded 
man in the glory of manhood. In the Museo Chris- 
tiano of the Vatican is a fresco removed from the Cata¬ 
combs that represents Christ in profile and with a full 
beard. The beautiful Calixtine portrait from the Cal- 
ixtine cemetery is almost destroyed by dampness and 
the smoke of tapers. It represents the oval face, 
straight nose, arched eyebrow and high forehead. The 
beard is thin and unshaven, the hair parted on the fore¬ 
head, falling over the shoulders in curls. The expres¬ 
sion of the face is mild and earnest. 

Publius Lentulus was the predecessor of Pilate, and 
his letter to the Roman Senate describing the Naza- 
rene probably influenced many of the artists in their 
conception of the face and form of Christ. This is a 
translation of his description: 

“There lives at this time in Judea a man of singular 
character, whose name is Jesus Christ. The barba¬ 
rians esteem him as a prophet, but his followers adore 
him as the immediate offspring of the immortal God. 
He is endowed with such unparalleled virtue as to call 
back the dead from their graves, and to heal every kind 
of disease with a word. His person is tall, elegantly 
shaped; his aspect amiable and serious. His hair 
flows in those beautiful shades which no united colours 


66 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


can match, falling into graceful curls below his ears, 
agreeably couching on his shoulders, parting on the 
corner of his head, like the head-dress of the sect of 
the Nazarites. His forehead is smooth and his cheeks 
without a spot, save that of lovely red. His nose and 
mouth are formed with exquisite symmetry. His 
beard is thick and suitable to the hair of his head, 
reaches a little below his chin, and parted in the mid¬ 
dle like a fork. He rebukes with majesty, counsels 
with mildness, and invites with the most tender and 
persuasive language, his whole address, whether in 
word or deed, being elegant, brave, and strictly char¬ 
acteristic of so exalted a being. No man has seen him 
smile, but the whole world has seen him weep; and so 
persuasive are his tears that the multitude can not 
withhold their tears. In short, whatever this phe¬ 
nomenon may be in the end, he seems at present a 
man of excellent beauty and divine perfection, every 
way surpassing the children of men.” The compiler 
adds, “To us who live in the later ages of the world it 
must be a high gratification to know what were the 
form and features of our beloved Master.” 

About the eighth century, John of Damascus gives 
another description which he claims to have gathered 
from an ancient author. “Christ has beautiful eyes, 
the eyebrows meeting, a regular nose, flowing locks, a 
black beard and sandy hair, with a creamy complexion 
like his mother.” 

During the reign of Constantine, 306-337, the Chris¬ 
tian religion was first recognized; the pagan basilicas 
were then appropriated to Christian worship, and Con- 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


67 


stantine ordered copies made of the accepted Christ 
pictures to adorn the walls. Christendom was now di¬ 
vided into the Latin and Greek churches, yet they each 
adhered to the same type with slight differences. The 
Latin portraits have the hair divided and smoothly 
painted in an arch over the brow. The Greeks have a 
lock falling from the center of the forehead. 

Constantine, under the inspiration of his mother, 
Helena, ascertained the sites of the various events in 
the “Passion of our Lord” and had churches or other 
memorials built. These different places became then 
objects of veneration to pilgrims who came from other 
Christian churches. Jerusalem is the seat of sacred 
association. The Via Dolorosa is the route our Lord 
took on his sorrowful procession from the “Hall of 
Judgment” to Mount Calvary. 

The church of the Holy Sepulchre is in the Latin 
quarter, the building Byzantine, and in a spacious 
court under the great dome is the sepulchre, an oblong 
form fifteen feet by ten, surmounted by a rich ceiling 
decorated with gold, silver, and precious marble. 
This church is a common meeting-ground for Chris¬ 
tians, Syrians, Copts, Greeks, Latins and Armenians. 
One also sees the tomb of the Virgin, the Mount of 
Olives, the Pool of Bethesda, and the Potter’s Field. 

As we come on down the centuries we find Hadrian 
L, 772-795, issued an order or decree that Christ 
should be represented in as beautiful form as art could 
depict; not one of these artists discarded that type of 
feature that long since had been received. 

John VII., 705, who was a Greek, built St. Maria 


68 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


in Cosmedia, and there we find a precious fragment of 
a picture from “old St. Peter’s.” In a fresco at St. 
Clement’s, Rome, Christ is represented releasing Adam 
and Eve from hell; this is the earliest painting with 
fair hair and beard. In St. Marco, Venice, we have 
another done in the time of Gregory, 833. These were 
probably the work of Greek artists. 

The ninth century produces a pleasing figure of 
Christ in St. Constantia, Rome. War now oppressed 
the country; the Byzantine artists left Rome, but be¬ 
ginners in art adhered to the preconceived type. 

Christ was born an Eastern Jew and was portrayed 
with dark hair, but not with Jewish features. 

What matters the exact outline of the Head of the 
Church; his hair auburn or black, his nose that of a 
Jew or a Gentile? We know He was the purest man 
that ever lived, a true son of his people; His heart 
aflame with desire to restore the law, and bring the 
Kingdom of Heaven to the children of earth. His 
every word was a sermon to men engaged in quarrels 
and contentions. 

Occasionally we see a picture of the Virgin Mary or 
of the Saviour that is attributed to the work of a su¬ 
pernatural agency. The artist is supposed to sit in a 
stupor of unconsciousness holding the brush and pal¬ 
ette while an unseen hand portrays the face and form. 
I was present when one of these noted Madonnas was 
unveiled in Florence, Italy, by order of the Pope, that 
the long-continued rain might cease. This canvas 
had not been seen by the public for fifteen years. 
From far and near devotees of the Romish church 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


69 


came, bringing gifts of rare jewels, precious stones, 
and gold, as thank-offerings for restoration from ill¬ 
ness or sudden death. This picture was studded about 
the neck, arms, and feet with magnificent diamonds, 
rubies, and pearls. In like manner with others, I had 
a half-dozen rosaries touched to the feet of this “Holy 
Mother” for gifts to Roman Catholic friends not pres¬ 
ent. 

The centuries continued to roll by and artists abated 
not one atom their endeavor to beautify the face of 
Christ. It is a question constantly in my mind, why 
Fra Angelico, with his heart aglow with love for the 
Master, did not invent a more soul-inspiring picture? 
With his sympathy for fallen man, he has given us a 
Christ with an expression of tender pity; he, like his 
predecessors, however, adhered to the type. This 
convinces us all the more of the truth of Sir Wyke 
Bayliss’s opinion that “the representations of Christ all 
emanate from the same source, even as the petals of a 
flower spring from the life of a flower.” Not one per¬ 
son is satisfied with any picture, even the best, by Ti¬ 
tian or others. In some particular they would have 
it changed. I have copied and studied many of the 
“old masters,” but not one ever prompted the exclama¬ 
tion, “My Lord and my God!” We do stand in mute 
amazement before many superb pictures, the produc¬ 
tion of immortal genius, traced by mortal fingers with 
perishable material, but keenly we feel the insuffi¬ 
ciency of a mere man’s attempt to depict the Divine, 
the agony of the crucifixion, or the transcendent glory 
of the ascension. From the thirteenth century we 


70 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


have the wonderful creations of Giotto, the best of 
which are in Florence in Santa Croce. Titian, in the 
sixteenth century, changed somewhat the old type to a 
more youthful face with neither beard nor moustache, 
and a complexion beautiful to behold, but that por¬ 
trayal that sprang from the Catacombs was unmistak¬ 
ably retained. Rembrandt, with a master hand, massed 
strong shadows and lights, and Van Dyke delineated 
with such feeling the scenes of the “Crucifixion on 
Calvary” that even in the present day when one looks 
upon his canvas, tears unbidden rise. Again, Leo¬ 
nardo da Vinci in his “Last Supper” delineates a tender, 
loving host, giving a morsel toi Judas, who was about to 
betray his Lord. Stand a child of the nineteenth cen¬ 
tury before that, or in fact any of the representations 
of Christ painted by Rubens, Munkacsy, or Dore' and 
they will single out the figure intended for the Christ. 
Why? Because, with acknowleged skill in the use of 
pigments and tools, no artist, no sculptor, ever loses 
sight of the original, the long-accepted type that was 
coriceived or designed by who? 

This question has never been answered. For cen¬ 
turies on centuries when art appeared dead, this first 
conception of the crucified one- “lived on and on.” 

With the individual strength of character found in 
the work of Raphael, Correggio, Titian, and others, 
we admit that they were willing to cast aside their orig¬ 
inality of design and without a question adopt the type 
of features that had come from no one knew whither. 

Caesar’s likeness on coin dates to a known period. 
When Paul wrote to Timothy sending greetings to the 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


7 1 


brethren, did he not have some authentic knowledge 
of the face that men called that of his risen Lord? 
Imagine Pilate standing before any one of the delin¬ 
eations of Christ. Would he exclaim, “Yes, that is the 
prisoner I delivered to be crucified?” Would Mary in 
the bitterness of her soul sob, “It is my son ye dragged 
away ?” 

As the years roll by, our cathedrals and churches re¬ 
produce in stained glass this picture of the “Great 
Shepherd of the Sheep”; the walls of schoolrooms are 
hung about with prints of “Him who is the same yes¬ 
terday, to-day, and forever”; the preachers and teach¬ 
ers teach the story of the cross. 

Notwithstanding the discussion as to the verity of 
the Christ pictures, no one has found a pen portrayal 
in the Bible of the features of the “Babe of Bethle¬ 
hem.” We read, “The child grew and waxed strong 
in spirit,” “He was full of grace and truth,” “Behold 
one who did no sin.” Look on that touching tableau 
in Gethsemane, “My soul is troubled,” and beside the 
tomb of a friend, “Jesus wept.” “He was seen of an¬ 
gels and crowned with honor.” “And many were as¬ 
tonished.” “His visage was so marred more than any 
man.” “As the shadow of a great rock in a weary 
land.” 

Dr. Stroud thinks Christ died of a broken heart. 
The “old masters” must have held a like opinion, for 
many of their portrayals have a heart-broken expres¬ 
sion. Did He fear a physical collapse before reaching 
Calvary ? For it is said in the days of His flesh he of- 


72 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


fered up prayers and supplications with stroilg crying 
and tears unto Him who was able to save Him from 
death, and was heard in that he feared. The answer 
to His cries came when an angel swept down the 
expanse beneath the star-lit sky, and with radiant 
hands lifted Him from His prostration, speaking 
words of encouragement. With this strength made 
perfect in His weakness, “He faced the trial,” saying 
to His disciples, “Arise, let us be going.” 

Pictures of Christ date from the earliest period, and 
as many other things have been preserved, one is dis¬ 
posed to believe in the verity of these portraits. 

Pere Scheil, a Frenchman and student of Assyrian 
literature, discovered a Babylonian account of the del¬ 
uge older than that of Moses. One authority says Mo¬ 
ses incorporated the Hebrew statement in Genesis. 
Borosus, a Babylonian historian, gives another descrip¬ 
tion, and George Smith found in the library at Nine¬ 
veh an Assyrian tablet with the account written on 
clay while yet soft. This was presumably six hundred 
years before Christ. These three resemble, but are 
not identical. It is believed by some that the story was 
borrowed from Babylon at the time of the Captivity. 
Pere Scheil, however, claims, that this precious bit of 
clay has a poetical account of it written seven centuries 
before Moses, or about the time of Isaac and Jacob, 
that is, over two thousand years before our Lord’s 
birth. Other writers affirm that Noah buried the rec¬ 
ords of the world’s antediluvian history in Sippara, 
just before the flood; at any rate it was at Sippara 
that the fragment was found. 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 73 

Christ’s portraits may have been preserved, if these 
fragmental writings are genuine. 

Christianity is to-day in a state of disruption and 
ready to unite into any form that will best supply it 
with power to fulfil its work or mission in the world; 
certainly we know more about the origin of the Bible 
than any man of the first century, nay more than Paul 
himself. 

We needed the coming of the Christ to show us the 
Father, the Word to reveal the Son, and the Holy 
Spirit to understand the Word ; and if we but study the 
Old Testament aright, it will be the seed of the New, 
from which is matured the flower of the Old. 

Even Sir Moses Montifiore, a strong-minded Jew, 
once asked, “Why can not we remove the title page be¬ 
tween the two Testaments?” 

Is it not conclusively proven that both Protestant 
and Roman Catholic denominations have accepted the 
one type, or delineation of the “Prince of Life?” In 
the words of the Bishop of Ripon, let> me say, “The 
religion of the future will neither be Protestant nor 
Catholic, but simply Christian.” 

“There is a green hill far away, 

Without a city wall 
Where the dear Lord was crucified 
Who died to save us all.” 

The cross, symbolic of Christianity, will always be 
dear to us, no matter what our creed or denomination, 
and we should be interested in its origin. It antedates 
the Christian era, for in heathen mythology we find a 


74 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


mention of this mystic emblem. Mr. Flinders Petrie, 
of the Egypt Exploration Fund, gives in his history of 
Egypt interesting details of the early form of the ankh, 
or cross. 

The labarum borne before the Emperor Constantine 
after his conversion to Christianity has three initial 
letters of the name Christ. The P is above the inter¬ 
section of the lines forming the X, and the I is below. 
A picture of this may be seen in Smith’s Dictionary of 
the Bible. This Constantine cross first- came into use 
early in the fourth century, and one is impressed with 
the fact that no other form of the tree on which our 
Lord was crucified is to be found in the Catacombs un¬ 
til a century later on. Baring-Gould claims that the 
labarum of Constantine was to be seen in connection 
with Christian inscriptions at Phile, and that the 
heathens used it to represent their religion. The 
Egyptians held it sacred as the symbol of life; to us it 
is typical of the life to come. 

When Moses lifted the brazen serpent in the wilder¬ 
ness, he prefigured the cross; and Justin Martyn tells 
us the sign of the cross is impressed upon the whole of 
nature. It forms a part of man himself, when he 
raises his hands in prayer. 

Early explorers found a cross of stone on the island 
of Cozumel in the Carribean sea, and among the ruins 
of Yucatan it is also seen. Part of the tablet of the 
cross of Palmyra is now in the National Museum at 
Washington and is classed as a fine work of art. A 
crucifix of iron was dug from a mound in West Vir- 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


75 


ginia, showing the mound-builders had it. However, 
this may have belonged to a Frenchman or Spaniard, 
and been found by a nomadic chief. The peculiar 
form of the cross of Calvary is wholly speculative, as 
crosses were the common property of all Eastern na¬ 
tions, and many legends are in circulation in regard to 
the true cross or tree which stood on Calvary. Christ 
was represented nailed to the outstretched beams with 
four nails, but to make the crucifixion harmonize with 
the doctrine of the Trinity, only three are now used. 
The Roman gibbet has really no symbolic value other 
than that given to it by the Martyr of Calvary. Bar- 
ing-Gould thus describes it: “Malefactors were some¬ 
times fastened to a simple upright stake and so left to 
die, or they were impaled upon it, and to this upright 
stake the Latin name crux (cross) was originally ap¬ 
plicable. Innumerable relics of the true cross are 
shown in the sanctuaries of Europe. It was believed 
that when a fragment was chipped off it had the power 
of growing, so as to keep it intact. Indeed it must 
have reproduced itself many times to have supplied the 
churches with the smallest section.” 

Helena, mother of Constantine the Great, was bap¬ 
tized into the Christian church after the victory gained 
by her son over the pagan forces; and in her desire to 
see the sepulchre where the Lord was entombed she 
visited Jerusalem in 326. She thought she was able 
to distinguish the true cross from the other two, be¬ 
cause an ill woman was cured by merely touching its 
surface. 


76 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


In Russia I found the peasant houses with crosses 
painted on the threshhold, for by their belief neither 
devil nor witches can cross this symbol. In the pres¬ 
ent day we hang up an old horseshoe for good luck. 
This, too, was handed down from a remote period. 


A- 


CHAPTER VI. 


“That in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be 
established.”— Matthew xviii. 16. 

I 

With permission I quote from a large collection of 
letters. 

Of course not one of the authorities quoted are in 
any way responsible for my views, or for anything in 
this booklet, beyond their own opinions. These letters 
show how men and women in other lands and of dif¬ 
ferent religions are impressed by this singular forma¬ 
tion in nature. 

By request, the “Real Stone Face” was submitted 
to her Majesty, the Queen of Italy, at the Royal Pal¬ 
ace in Rome, on the twenty-third day of April, 1894. 

An extract from a letter from Sir Arthur Bigge, 
dated at Windsor Castle, England, during the Jubilee, 
explains why I have not had the honor of submitting 
it to Her Majesty, Queen Victoria. 

“I fear it will not be possible to carry out your wish 
to show the Queen the stone you so much prize. But 
I feel sure you will also realize the heavy duties and 
occupations which daily devolve upon Her Majesty. 
It is those that preclude her from undertaking to carry 
out many suggestions such as that which you have 
made.” 

Mrs. U. S. Grant, Grand Union Hotel, Saratoga 
Springs, wrote in August, 1891: 

“The beautiful, pathetic face wonderfully portrayed 



77 


78 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


on the stone is so constantly before me that I feel I 
must again thank you for giving me the privilege of 
viewing it.” 

Mrs. Caroline Scott Harrison invited me to the Ex¬ 
ecutive Mansion, Washington, D. C., on February 22, 
1892. She examined the curio and wrote in my book: 
“I desire to express my appreciation of the wonderful 
stone which gives a pathetic view of a face.” 

Joseph Mayer, who took the part of “Christus” in 
the Passion Play, wrote me on July 31, 1892, and I 
give this extract: “I find the photograph of the stone 
very remarkable; it will not be found a second time.” 

W. T. Gavidson, Surgeon to the Queen, London, 
June 6, 1895 : “A very remarkable stone.” 

From hundreds of letters I glean a few opinions of 
men qualified to judge of the stone as a mineral. 

Dr. R. Garnett, British Museum, May, 1892: “A 
great natural curiosity, more curious than anything of 
the same nature with which I am acquainted, and the 
history of its discovery is more curious still.” 

Sir W. H. Fowler, British Museum (Natural 
History), June, 1895: “A small fragment of stone, 
the broken surface of which, in some lights, shows a 
striking resemblance to a human face.” 

Mr. J. Hen Middleton, South Kensington Museum, 
March, 1894: “It is wholly the work of nature and a 
very curious freak of considerable beauty.” 

Prof. F. J. H. Merrill, State Geologist, Albany, 
N. Y., October, 1890: “The material is limestone, 
veined with chert, and the colors of the two substances 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


79 


contrast in such a manner as to delineate with much 
exactness a human face. No tool appears to have 
touched it; the surface is entirely due to fracture and 
abrasion.” 

Dr. Geinitz, Museum (Green Vault), Dresden, Au¬ 
gust, 1892: “It is a product of nature, and in no case 
a work of man.” 

L. Fletcher, British Museum (Natural History), 
June, 1895: “The ‘portrait stone’ presents very cu¬ 
rious effects of light and shade, and is quite natural.” 

J. Sparkes, Natural Art Training School, Depart¬ 
ment of Science and Art, South Kensington, June, 
1895: “Among the many natural curiosities which I 
have seen, it is I think the most remarkable.” 

Dr. E. Klementz, Museum Royal, Brussels, July, 
1892: “I find it to be in its natural state, and not arti¬ 
ficially chiseled.” 

Dr. Grunling, Professor of Mineralogy, Royal Mu¬ 
seum of Munich, August, 1892: “The stone with the 
head of a man is a product of nature.” 

Prof. E. S. Dana, Science Journal, New Haven, 
Conn., February, 1891: “I have no doubt that the 
form of the surface of the rock fragment has been 
given to it by natural fracture only, and hence that the 
curious resemblance to a human face which it exhibits 
in certain lights is purely accidental.” 

Prof. J. S. Newberry, Columbia College, New York, 
November, 1890: “I have examined the stone. It 
has not been fashioned by art.” 


8 o 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


Prof. J. M. Clarke, Assistant State Paleontologist, 
Albany, N. Y., October, 1890: “The face in the little 
fragment of rock is certainly a most striking coinci¬ 
dence. No play of the imagination is required to see 
it.” 

H. M. Platnauer, The Museum, York, England, Au¬ 
gust, 1893: “It is almost startling to find so faithful 
a representation of a human face due to purely natural 
causes.” 

Prof. Eugene A. Smith, State Geologist, University, 
Ala., May, 1899: “I have closely examined your 
‘Real Stone Face/ and consider it a remarkable natu¬ 
ral curiosity, in which the arrangement of the chert 
veinings on a broken or fractured surface of the stone 
produces in certain lights a most striking resemblance 
to a human face seen in profile/’ 

Prof. Henry Balfour, Pitts Rivers Collection, Uni¬ 
versity Museum, Oxford, England, 1893: “I would 
rank this little natural sculpture amongst the highest 
achievements of the impressionist school.” 

Not geologists only, but clergymen and men of 
science have carefully examined the tiny bit of lime¬ 
stone, many seeing in its portrayal the type we asso¬ 
ciate with the face of the “Man of Gallilee.” 

F. Max Muller, Oxford, November, 1893: “The 
chapter of accidents is much larger than we imagine.’’ 

W. W. Story, Palazzo Barberini, Rome, April, 1894: 
“A thousand eyes might have looked and seen nothing, 
but you discovered in this pebble a new world and an 
extraordinary and interesting head.” 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 8 l 

The Right Rev. Canon R. Duckworth, of Westmins¬ 
ter Abbey, November, 1894: “No cameo engraved 
by the best of artists could have presented a more im¬ 
pressive picture of the ‘sacred Head surrounded by 
crown of piercing thorns/ ” 

Sir Wyke Bayliss, Royal Society of British Art¬ 
ists, June, 1895: “In some positions the resemblance 
to the commonly received likeness of Christ is aston¬ 
ishing. It is remarkable also that the expression re¬ 
minds one of the best pictures and not of the worst.” 

The Rev. J. R. Macduff, D.D., Ravensbrook, Chisle- 
hurst, Kent, November, 1892: “It is to me an ideal 
face, more satisfying in its simple pathos (pre-emi¬ 
nently the ‘Man of Sorrows’) than the often laboured 
conceptions of medieval painters.” 

J. Russell Forbes, Ph.D., Rome, March, 1894: 
“There can be no question as to its similarity to the 
portraits of our Lord as He is represented in early 
Christian art. On seeing it, my little son exclaimed, 
‘Why, that is Jesus/ ‘Out of the mouth of babes and 
sucklings Thou hast perfected praise/ ‘The stones 
will cry out/ ” 

J. Cardinal Gibbons, Baltimore, Md., February, 
1892: “A striking expression of ‘the Man of Sor¬ 
rows.’ ” 

Cardinal Rompolla, Vatican, Rome, April, 1894: 
“The little stone is truly worthy of observation.” 

Prof. Enrico Ridolfi, Director of the R. R. Galler¬ 
ies and Museums of the Uffizi and Pitti, Florence, 
May, 1894, admires the graceful natural sketch, which 
is certainly remarkable. 


82 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


The Rev. Wm. C. Winslow, Vice-President Egyp¬ 
tian Exploration Fund, Boston, Mass., September, 
1891: “If the stones ever preach sermons, surely this 
preaches the most unique and tender of them all.” 

The Rev. S. F. Smith, D.D., author of “My Country 
’Tis of Thee,” Newton Centre, Mass., 1890: “It re¬ 
quires no effort of the imagination to see in it the head 
of the suffering, dying Christ, vivid in form and ex¬ 
pression.” 

The Rev. Robert Wood, The Vicarage, Brickley, 
Kent, 1892: “The beautiful natural sculpture lives 
and will live in my memory. It is curious that that 
wondrous face should have been revealed to you after 
many years, and I like to think it would not have re¬ 
vealed itself except to one who had thought much upon 
it with a loving and holy reverence. It lived in your 
heart before it lived in the stone. In one sense you 
have found it, but in anothe'r we shall always be seek¬ 
ing it, until the sorrow has faded alike from His face 
and ours, and we shall see Him as He is, face to face.” 

The Rev. James Turner Leftwich, LL.D., Baltimore, 
1892: “The little fragment of rock gives a better rep¬ 
resentation of my conception of that visage that was so 
marred more than any man’s than I have found in 
works of art by the 'old masters.’ I have known Mrs. 
Bacon over twenty years, and know no one in whose 
character and statements I have more implicit confi¬ 
dence.” 

The Rev. John Hall, LL.D., Fifth Avenue Church, 
New York, 1890: “A remarkable accidental repro- 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


83 


duction of the human face. I have known Mrs. Ba¬ 
con for many years. She is a zealous Christian 
worker, in whom confidence may be placed.” 

Bishop John H. Vincent, Chautauqua, N. Y., 1898: 
“A remarkable resemblance to the traditional face of 
Christ.” 

The Right Rev. J. S. Johnston, Bishop of West 
Texas, 1898: “I have looked in wonder upon the por¬ 
trait in stone. I have seen the most famous paintings 
of the Christ, but not one has so impressed me as this.” 

The Rev. Thomas L. Hastings, D.D., Theological 
Seminary, New York, 1898: “Exceedingly interest¬ 
ing and wonderfully comprehensive and suggestive.” 

Canon J. R. T. Eaton, England, 1895: '“A truly 
marvelous instance of the sympathy of nature with the 
divine.” 

The Rev. John Lake, Young Men’s Christian Asso¬ 
ciation, Johnston, S. C., 1899: “A most wonderful 
production of nature, its value enhanced a thousand¬ 
fold by the time and place at which it was found. 
Something that will probably stand without a parallel 
until we see the King in His glory.” 

Major J. B. Pond, Lecture Bureau, Everett House, 
N. Y., 1899: “Your account of the finding of ‘The 
Real Stone Face’ is the most thrilling I ever listened to. 
I shall recommend your ‘talk’ to committees far and 
wide.” 

The Rev. Alexander Cargill, LL.D., Edinburgh, 
Scotland, 1897: “A far more enthralling story than 
any that tells of the discovery of any of the great dia¬ 
monds of the world.” 


8 4 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


The Rev. Charles L. Thompson, LL.D., New York, 
1890: “Surely you will interest and do good by giv¬ 
ing people a chance to see it.” 

The Rev. Arthur Chillon Powell, Baltimore, 1892: 
“This weeping stone has deeply moved me. A drop¬ 
ping tear alone is 'wanting to give it reality.” 

The Honorable and Rev. R. J. Yarde-Builer, 
Thurlestone, South Devonshire, England, 1894: “All 
should examine this remarkable stone more than once.” 

The Right Rev. Isaac Lea Nicholson, Bishop of Mil¬ 
waukee, 1898: “A most striking ‘sermon in stone,’ 
and full of spiritual pathos.” 

The Rev. J. H. Ecob, D.D., Albany, N. Y., 1890: 
“This is not one of the things you have to try to see, 
but is as clear and fine as if from the hand of a master.” 

Edward Clifford, Honorable Secretary Church 
Army, London, 1895: “The form and expression are 
both perfect. It seems impossible to wish for the face 
to be different in any way.” 

The Rev. Robert Lawrence Ottley, Pusey House, 
Oxford, England, 1893: “It is one of the most re¬ 
markable and beautiful things I have ever seen, and I 
shall long remember it.” 

The Rev. Joshua H. Foster, Tuscaloosa, Ala., 1899: 
“A unique subject, calculated to do good.” 

The Right Rev. Wm. Croswell Doane, Bishop of 
Albany, N. Y., 1890: “No one can look upon this cu¬ 
rious natural product without great interest and won¬ 
der. It arrests the attention of every one.” 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


85 


Mrs. M. J. Chase, F. A. A. A. S., Redhill, Surrey, 
England, 1895 : “A natural phenomenon calculated to 
lift the thoughts to the great Designer.” 

Mrs. Pearl Craigie (John Oliver Hobbes), London, 
1895: “The photographs do not give the same sensa¬ 
tion of astonishment and, indeed, reverence which the 
original irresistibly conveys.” 

The Rev. Joseph Carey, Saratoga Springs, 1890: 
“If nature sympathized with Him in His death, and 
the rocks were rent, is it at all strange that He should 
leave His impress on the pages of her mysterious 
book?” 

The Rev. Aspinwall Hodges, Hartford, Conn., 1890: 
“It represents Christ as dead, He appears to have just 
expired for the atonement of our sins. It is a wonder¬ 
ful stone, but we wonder more at that it represents.” 

Henry C. Bowen, The Independent , New York, 
1891: “It is indeed a marvel, and must be a wonder 
to all who are permitted to study it.” 

Mr. R. C. Smith, Baltimore, 1893: “‘The Real 
Stone Face’ embodies the characteristics of the pic¬ 
tures of our Saviour.” 

Judge Sylvester, Syracuse, N. Y., 1890: “Nature 
carved the resemblance of the face of her Master upon 
the everlasting rock.” 

The Rev. Lemuel C. Barnes, D.D., Newton Centre, 
Mass, 1890: “No eye can fail to see the ideal cameo, 
yet no stroke of art has produced it, the face was there 
from the beginning.” 


86 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 

O wondrous face, through untold ages wrought 
By faithful Nature in the mountain-way 
O’erlooking ’Ammergau’s acted Passion Play, 

Tell us thy secret as to thee ’twas taught. 

May we, like her whose heart with sorrow fraught 
Received thee as her own to be a stay 
In hour of loneliness, as truly say, 

“From heart of sorrow comes the deepest thought. M 

Nature, as Art, at last has dared reveal 
The Man of Sorrows, with marvellous face 
No human soul can iully understands 
But every heart its secret may so feel, 

As to reflect a light no time, nor space, 

Nor element, its blessing can withstand. 

—Elizabeth Porter Gould. 

Short extracts from newspapers: 

New York Tribune: “A wonderful piece of stone.” 

Nezv York Times: “A stratification which forms a 
face.” 

Mail and Express: “In a certain light presents a 
wonderful likeness.” 

Saratogian: “It is a rare gem.” 

Albany Argus: “Carved by forces of nature into a 
face.” 

Roman Nezvs and Directory, Rome, Italy: “The 
discovery of the 'Real Stone Face’ is almost as curious 
as the portrait itself, which is clear and distinct.” 

The Sun, Baltimore: “By invitation of Mrs. Harris 
son, the 'Real Stone Face’ was taken to the White 
House yesterday.” 

Saginaw Courier Herald: “Undoubtedly the rarest 
natural curiosity in the world.” 


THE REAL STONE FACE. 87 

Detroit Tribune: “A weather-beaten chip of soft 
limestone.” 

Los Angeles Times, California: “No touch of a 
tool nor mark of color.” 

Buffalo Commercial: “Positively nature’s work.” 

Home Journal, New York: “The sorrowful face ap¬ 
pears like a fine carving.” 

Providence Sunday Journal: “The resemblance is 
marvelous.” 

Utica Morning Herald: “A living sermon, that all 
may see and read.” 

Trenton Evening Times: “This beautiful portrait 
found in the eternal rock.” 

The Montclair Times: “It is well worth seeing.” 

Asbury Park Daily Press: “It has been examined 
by queens, lords and ladies of many European courts.” 

Tuscaloosa Daily Gazette, Alabama: “One can not 
see the face without being impressed.” 

Watertown Daily Times, New York: “A stone cut 
without hands. To see it is to disarm criticism.” 

Brooklyn Eagle: “It curiously fulfills all expecta¬ 
tions.” 

New York Evening Sun: “The pebble has created 
a great deal of interest.” 

The Sun, New York: “They went away filled with 
wonder.” 

The State, Columbia, S. C.: “In the proper light is 
seen the face, with its beautifully pathetic expression.” 



The Real 
Stone Face 


BACON 


































































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